The Changelings
by Coldfire323
Summary: -Tranformation fanfic- Four children have become the helpless victims of revenge. They must struggle to get back to their universe alive, all the while battling with their greatest, darkest enemies... Themselves.
1. The Pact

Disclaimer: I do not own anything pokémon related in this story. Simple as that.

**The majority of these characters are only loosely based on their real-life counterparts.** If said counterparts ever make the mistake of reading this, please don't be offended by how I've molded you together. In no way does this reflect my portrayal of you as a person. Thanks boys! ;)

Copyright 2006 ©

Hey everyone! Retired fanfiction writer here. It's been a little over a year since I finished this story, and I thought I should just update this Author's Note. The writing is, admittedly, flawed, but it IS over three years old as of writing those first words. As always, please enjoy my 'fic, and brace yourself for an epic story. Review if you like, fav if that makes it easier!

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**Chapter one: The Pact  
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I could feel her eyes scanning my writing, my work, and closed the computer window in a hurry, biting back the urge to ask her to leave me alone in my normal, snappy voice. Everyone wanted a look. They all wanted to read my thoughts. Thoughts that were meant to stay private, but put into magical words that sung to you as you read. I was proud of my work, and only those who understood that would be given the privilege to read it.

Turning around in a flurry of chocolate brown hair, I narrowed my eyes, pursing my lips up at my twin, Jill. "Do you mind? I'm writing." _And you aren't worthy to read it._ I thought.

She mimicked my expression, twitches of discomfort creeping into the corners of her mouth. "It's your turn."

"Oh." My face fell. I wouldn't be able to write after this. "You done drawing the pictures on Marc and Joe's hands?" Drawing, as in digging a needle under the skin in their palms.

You see Marc, Jill and I are at the peek of our childhood, Jill and I being thirteen, and Marc fourteen. None of us want to believe it, but our childhood is slithering from our fingers like water through a porous sponge. To conserve what little childhood we had left, we decided to make tattoos about the size of a quarter on the center of our left palms. The pictures we agreed Jill would draw was our favorite pokémon back when we watched the show. I didn't like the idea much, but it was Marc who thought it up, and Marc always got his way.

She nodded stiffly, turning her back on me to retrieve a clean needle. I watched Joe, who just wanted in because his older brother was doing it, tying a cloth around his wrist. A tissue, growing red rapidly by the second, was pressed deeply into his hand. The scar wasn't something to conserve his childhood to him; he thought it was a pact to never turn our backs on that stupid show.

And then, Jill returned, face grim, and a dull fear coiled around in my stomach. I didn't want to do this. It was so pointless and extreme. A tattoo? Please. If my Mom ever found out about this...

Before I found out what was happening, an iron grip seized my left wrist, and my hand was slammed painfully into the computer desk. I struggled, looking to the side for any reassurance from my friends, but they had been sent out of the room. Frantic, I attempted to pry the fingers off, only for them to tighten even more. A cold pain sensation tore at the tender flesh of my palm, and a hot liquid gathered, dribbling down my arm.

"Done!" Jill threw my hand in my direction with great relief, blood flecking my face as she did so.

"'the hell's your problem Jill!" I screeched, the door to my room opening a crack as two curious pair of eyes peered through. "You never did that with the other two!"

"Yeah, I did. I led Joe into your room, and Marc into Mom's room. I did you last because you were busy writing." Her voice was awfully calm, considering the fact she just mutilated her own twin's hand. "Besides, it was Marc's idea to sneak up on you..."

"I don't care whose idea it was! Think of what the boys' dad'll say-think of Mom!" My mom had been going through some issues since our older sister stopped sending letter to us from Great Britain. She was considered missing, and never to be found again.

"She won't know if she doesn't find out." Jill said, grimacing when she timidly began to create her own tattoo. "Now clean up the bloody towels."

Puffing out my chest in dignified anger, but much more calm then before, I confiscated the evidence, licking blood from my palm. For once, I was grateful that our carpet was such an ugly dark red. Even when it dried, she wouldn't know the difference.

"Hey Superman," I called to Marc, still picking up the towels. "I could use some help over here."

He shuffled out, dragging his brother by the shirt collar and dropping him on the floor. "Get him to do it." He growled, inspecting his own tattoo, the first to have been made, the first to have ceased bleeding.

"Pick up your own towel!" Joe yelled with a cracking voice not yet developed, glaring into his brother's back which had already started for my room.

"No."

And that was that. No more arguing. He used every trick in the book to win a fight, and was even known to lie for his own personal gain. Marc was the type of friend who got you wondering how you befriended such a deceitful teenager in the first place.

After a few moments of cleaning, rain began to splatter against the windows angrily, trickling down the glass like wet paint. Lightning tiptoed across the overcast skies, and thunder growled threateningly a few miles away. The trees across the street swayed dangerously side to side. The T.V was interrupted from its current show for a special weather bulletin, the weather man murmuring nervous exuses for such an odd climate cange. I looked outside anxiously, wringing the towel in my hand so more redness seeped inside. This wasn't normal weather. It had come so suddenly...

The sound of a motorcycle's engine jostled me roughly from my thoughts, the color draining from my face. That was my mom. She'd be home soon and Marc's stuff was still littered on the floor. We were dead. Just as Joe and Jill looked up at the small Rebel grinding up our driveway in frozen horror, I lunged for Marc's towel, no longer caring about how utterly disgusting it was. Near hysterics, I shoved both my towel and his into the already full washer just as the porch door slammed and my mother walked through the door. This wasn't worth it at all. Screw childhood and all its stupid decisions.

"Leave it to the fcking weather to stop me from having a good time." She said with a snarl in her Boston accent. Her motorcycle was a way to forget about her lost first born; her most prized possession, and only the weather could stop her from doing it. God forbid any grime get on the chrome.

"Mom..?" I said gently, flinching at her intimidating hostile tone. "It's raining really hard outside. I don't think it's safe for the boys to go home. Do you think they could spend the night? Until the storm's over?"

She took off her helmet, shaking the strings of hair from her face and sending droplets of water into the carpet, to join the invisible drops of blood that had long since dried. "I really don't care, just call their dad to tell them. You'd better go get the air mattress in the garage while you can...unless Marc and Joe like sleepin' on the floor."

Meanwhile, farther away than any human could imagine, where another sun bathed its universe in warmth, many a creatures watched the four children slowly drift the land of slumber. They gazed into the translucent orb of darkness and light in awe, some reaching out to stroke it and befuddling the image further than it already was. The air was stale, and the dark cavern had never been touch by sunlight. It was a secret place where the creatures could meet for such an event in iscolated peace.

Something beside the orb chuckled, stroking its sides lovingly as if it were a child. "See how easy it is to change their climate? To use the simple items they invent for our visionary uses? They will not survive the next millennia."

"These beings...are they human?" One inquired, whom had touched the orb they were gazing into before.

"Yes...but such creatures are not blessed with our kind. They are lonely, greedy beasts, gradually destroying their planet. I pity them." The first replied, who seemed to be the conjurer of the glowing sphere.

This was followed by mutters of agreement and an eerie silence. They continued to watch the flashes of lightning, the tossing and turning of the children, and recoiled back in wonder when one of the girls seemed to look them straight in the eye and then look away, dozing.

"Why such an interest in these four? Certainly, they are just humans from a different universe, nothing more." A new voice hesitantly spoke.

"These humans have conjured some sort of ritual...I can barely hear their thoughts, but if I'm not mistaken, we are known by them and they wish to remain loyal to us until their life forces go out." Said the maker of the orb. "Three are unaware of that, however."

"Let me search their future. I'm sure to find something to answer our questions." A timid voice suggested.

"You know the risks of looking beyond fate, Cel." The first voice growled, a trace of alarm in his otherwise monotone voice. His warning, however, had been lost among the sea of voices. All of who approved the younger creature's plot.

The cave fell silent, engulfed in velvety darkness as Cel looked into the future. The only light came from the countless pairs of eyes reflected from the orb, watching with anxiety gnawing at them fiercely.

"…they will break there vows!" Cel's voice said a few moments later, gaining in volume from the mounting panic pacing inside his chest. A pair of eyes traveled toward the small one, though nothing proved that it had moved with its legs.

"How so? Surely you are incorrect!" But its voice was cut off by a horrible scream, of bones shifting, and skin melting away. Its decaying body drooped low to the ground, curled into a tight ball in a desperate attempt to ward off the evil clouding its heart. In response, others began to succumb to it like a deadly illness, each one's once mighty form felled so easily. The cave rang with screams.

"Take a good look at what is happening to our kind." The second voice announced over the crying, ignoring the agony slashing at its insides. "...and when we have all fallen to this torture, remember who it was that caused it." The speaker keeled over and fell, writhing among its watchers not yet affected. It opened one eye, pupil growing small. "They will suffer..."

The same girl looked up at the orb again, sighing, and the image was torn apart by a pathway of claws. It flickered, and, very gradually, faded into nothing. The room was enveloped in eternal night once more.


	2. Life or Death

Disclaimer: I do not own anything pokémon related in this story. I do however,own my plot and the characters involved in it.

Copyright 2006 ©

Author's note: Well, it took me a bit to figure out how to submit this next chapter, but I managed to do it. -

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**Chapter Two: Life or Death**

It was still down pouring torrents of rainfall when the others were asleep. The thunder would have cracked the windows if it got any higher in volume and lightning elucidated the entire house with an unsettling shade of cerulean. Clouds were so thick, that if a forest fire were going on nearby, it would've been hard to determine what was cloud and what was smoke.

Marc and Joe slept soundly, one snoring louder than the thunder outside, the other drooling so much; his whole pillow was a darker shade of color. I could hear Jill's heavy metal music screaming from her headphones, so apparently, she was untroubled by the hardness of the rubber mattress, and the sounds erupting around us. Turning on my side to glance up at the clock for the hundredths time that night, I sighed deeply as it struck one. An instant later, the red digital numbers shattered like glass and dissapeared from view.

I sat upright, staring at the blotch of darkness on the clock that had, moments before, spitefully struck the hour. Jill, disturbed from the creaky noices I made moving about on the air bed, shifted in her sleep, turning away so her back was against me.

Looking down, unnerved and somewhat afraid by such a mystery, I laid my head against the pillow, once again trying to fall asleep. And, once again, it was rudely interrupted. My hand was beginning to smart as if the tattoo had been torn off. I flexed my fingers inward to dull the pain, an uncontrollable fleck of tears plaguing the corners of my eyes.

A deep red blared from my tattoo suddenly, snarling at the skin with furious fangs, and blinding me, sealing my eyelids shut with an invisible force. I cried out in surprise, but the light seeped down my throat, inflaming whatever it touched as it streamed by, and had glued my lips together in the process. Hurling myself upward, I clawed at my throat, my chest, anywhere the light seemed to be traveling inside me and causing the most pain, all the while hearing Jill arise, screaming as I had and breaking off suddenly as her tattoo began to glow. The light escaped through my nostrils, I could tell from the bursting heat afterwards, and shut them tightly together as it left.

I had no air to breath, barely any strength to move, and every part of my body felt like hot iron had been pressed against it. In my panic, I thrashed on the ground weakly, desperate for air. My fingers could feel the smoothness of the door in my flailing and began slamming into it for help, the booming noise deaf to me. Having given up the fight for breath, I noticed a blood color seeping behind my eyelids, engulfing my entire body.

The next time I awoke, I had traveled farther than man had ever traveled, and would later endure a pain no ordinary man could endure. Coldness bled through my pajamas where I lay, but my entire body was already frozen stiff and I could hardly feel it. The seal cast upon my nose, mouth, and eyes had vanished, but I needn't have worried about breathing anymore. I knew what had happened before I noticed that the gentle drumming in my chest had stopped, and that I had sat there for minutes, and not felt the constant need for air. I was dead. Well, mostly anyway. Deep inside was a small flicker of life, small and decaying, but there.

With a rattled gasp, I tried to sit up, and in response to the struggle, drifted upward like I was a balloon being tossed. Slow motion. Not even feeling it. Turning my head slowly (I couldn't go any faster), I gazed into the ripple of nothingness surrounding me, at that moment realizing that this was mere inky darkness and not a void I was forever cursed to float in.

I patted the ground I was sitting on sluggishly, grateful for the vague texture of moss clinging to ancient stone. Plants. Life. But why was there life, and no sunlight? I couldn't see my hand waving in front of my face if it had been, it was so dark. Inspired by the thought, I tried, and floating backwards in surprise. My arm was sending off a pale green hue, and when I put my other hand behind it, I could see it.

Before I could understand what I had just seen, a quiet sobbing piqued my interest. I could tell it was female, but it was so faint, like it didn't belong. Like me.

"Jill?"

"Jade?"

"Thank god, Jill, I'm so glad to hear you...but where are you? I can't-

"We can't see each other." Marc grunted the rest of my sentence for me; another voice lost in this unknown place. "But I can see myself. I'm glowing and I'm see-through." He made it sound so casual. Like he had been all his life.

"Where's Joe?" I demanded immediately, striding over to where his voice had been carried.

"Over there..." He sounded no closer then before, if not farther away. Josef sniveled in response.

Without warning, a dark chill surged through me. The back of my spine prickled, chilled to the marrow out of fear I couldn't describe. Something was close by and threatened to destroy what little life we had left.

I could feel the hot breath of many beasts, the shuffling of great bodies moving clumsily around me. Farther away, I heard Jill scream, and found out why a second after.

They were all around me, snapping their maws inches from my limbs, wishing nothing more than to tear them off and relish in my screams of pain. Millions of teeth flashed with malice, dripping a dark liquid from their deadly tips. Countless glaring eyes hovered above them, just as piercing and frightening,

Beyond screaming, I turned around in a circle for any ways of escape, shaking so violently, I could almost feel my dead body's movement. I fell on my knees, silent tears crawling down my pale face. The creatures howled gleefully at the sight, snarling even louder than before. One even went through the trouble of lunging at me, pausing over my cowering body, and reluctantly returning to the group. They were torturing me, even though not one had attacked. The very thought of such animals so close would be enough to beg for death. But I couldn't do anything of the sort. I was already dead.

What was only a few minutes of a world of bloody teeth and growling creatures, felt like an eternity. When I could bare the scene no longer, at the peak of sanity, I allowed myself to withdraw into the comfort of unconsciousness.

Despite the living hell surrounding him, Marc stood fast, calmly watching the sight with a false smirk while stifling the urge to pass out. He was frightened beyond words yes, but had learned, from fourteen years of experience, never to show your weakness to the enemy. And he was quite sure that these beasts were the enemy.

With apparent unwillingness, they all retreated far off in a neat line; the only hint of their presence the menacing glint of their eyes in the dark. One of them glided over to him gracefully, glaring with rueful eyes that made Marc feel oddly guilty.

"Welcome child. I'm sure you've enjoyed the hospitality my friends have given you, and must admit that I am impressed that you, unlike the other three, haven't passed out yet." It hissed in a voice that was impossible to prove its gender.

"I get plenty practice." Marc responded with a low voice, trying his hardest not to look the thing in the eye.

"Oh do you then?" It sneered, the foul breath of his speaker making Marc want to gag. "Then maybe you won't mind seeing this. Be quick about it; the closer you get to death, the harder it is to hear you."

It conjured an orb, oh too familiar to the creatures in the room, and a very faint picture played along it like a recording. Cautiously, he took the courage of peering closer inside.

Four very dead looking bodies lay in a mass of beeping machines and feeding tubes, so concealed in wiring that it took him a while to realize who they were. "That's us."

"You _are_ the smartest of the bunch, aren't you?"

The orb dissipated into shimmering sparks, leaving him dumbfounded at what he had just seen. How could they have been there, when their bodies were right here? Marc patted his arm, sickened when he couldn't feel skin rubbing against skin. He wasn't here. It was all a horrible dream that he'd never escape from. Death.

Reading his expression, the creature speaking to Marc chortled, eyes narrowing. "Oh don't worry. You're stil partly alive, and in a short time, you'll wish you weren't. Allow me to demonstrate..." He heard it snapping its claws together, and something that he could only describe as a mutated claw whistled through the air and slashed at an arm, severing it so deeply, he already knew it was lethal by the overwhelming pain blossoming there. Still, the moment the attack had made contact, a spark of life flared in his chest, jump starting his heart and refilling his lungs with air.

Crying out in an agonized scream, a terrible sound Marc wasn't familiar with, he clutched his arm, attempting to constrict the pain away.

"As much as we'd like to keep you here, and torture you until sanity breaks," It began, and he listened, barely understanding under the distraction of his severed arm. "We have all agreed to make you suffer by altering your appearance, as you have done to us."

"But what did we do!" He blurted out, sobbing out of pain and frustration. His courage had failed him. "I don't even know what the hells' going on! I want to go home!"

"Don't you dare interrupt me, you poor excuse for a human being!" It screeched, temper boiling, and he felt another blinding pain on his injured arm, severing it as far as it would allow without the threat of amputation. Blood pumped in rythym with the heartbeat he so desperately wanted before. Now it would be the second death of him. "Are you that naïve? Before the sun dipped on your planet, you sealed a passage, vowing to forever remain loyal to us. Our soothsayer revealed that this is not so! And due to your mistake, we suffer."

"But I don't even know what you are! Why blame me, and not one of the other three?"

"Blame you?" The creature mused, eyes twinkling. "My dear boy, what you may think of as blame, is a gift."

Marc cocked an eyebrow suspiciously, gritting his teeth as his arm moved with his cowering body, dragging across the stony floor to leave a pathway of crimson in its wake. "What are you talking about?"

"Those fools that lay unconscious nearby are weaklings. They cannot handle the power I'm giving to you correctly."

"Power?" Marc could feel his heart relaxing to a rhythmic drum. Whether it was the withering of his new found life, or the silky words, he wasn't sure.

"Power that only you can exploit into usefulness. Your… 'friends' will have this power too, but unlike you, they will be unaware of it. Think of all that control when you awaken again…" It paused, looking over Marc with eager eyes. "Are you interested?"

"Yes."  
"What are you..?" My question traversed across the plains of my mind in a peaceful whisper of wind. I could feel that one of the things had entered my dream, standing beside me like a relentless shadow.

It didn't answer, but I knew that my question would be fulfilled the moment my stomach churned and my body felt as if slammed against a wall. Ripped from unconsciousness like a sticker, I dared not open my eyes, although the temptation was great. Instead of lying on stone and moss, I could feel smooth, powdery substance grinding softly against my knees. The air had suddenly turned thin, stale and smoky with a tinge of mold and decaying walls.

"If you wish to see the answer to your question, then build the courage to look me in the eye. Hurry! Your time is short." I obeyed.

My eyes widened at what I saw. "No...This can't be. It- You're not real!" I yelled into the face of a mew, a pokémon I had long forgotten over the years.

Or at least, I thought it was a Mew. It still held the bodily structure, a bit cat-like and graceful as it hovered above ground, but everything else had changed. Its tail was dotted with green spikes that ended with a black scythe that curled upward to its soft underbelly. Its back was also plagued with green barbs, and its newly obtained ebony claws were longer than half its body-span, drooped low to the ground, unable to stay upright from the extreme length. Fangs peered out from its lower lip, giving it a caveman-like appearance. The eyes, once innocent gems of opal, were now angry stones of jasper.

The mew's lip curled into what I thought was a smirk. "How could something that never existed kill you with mere light? How could it travel to a different universe, and seize you with the small bit of psychic energy it could bring with it? How could it take you here in death, and still give you pain?"

I couldn't answer; there weren't any for those questions. I was too distracted to reply at all. How could this be real? How could it? They didn't exist. _How could it?_ "What happened to you?" I asked quietly, lowering my gaze.

"You broke your vow. The one you carved into your hand. You were not trying to conserve your childhood; you were sealing a pact to never turn your backs on us. And, according to our soothsayer, that was false. Now look at us," It spread its nails apart with difficulty, raising arms as if awaiting an embrace. "We have suffered for your foolishness. So you shall suffer as well." Its eyes pulsed a threatening sapphire.

"Wait!" I cried out, lifting up my hand. _How... they weren't real...could never be-_

A flash of blue, a pain I couldn't endure, and then nothing. No fickle of life remained this time. I was truly dead.

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Now see what happens when you're patient throughout the first boring chapter? A good old cliff hanger. Oh right, and a cookie. throws cookie at joo 


	3. Hatchlings and Capture

Author's notes: This is a chapter that's been redone so there is a reasonable time stretch. Most of it is the same, aside from a passage showing the time stretch, and a few small changes so that it will make sense throughout the chapter. If you see something that doesn't quite fit (a hole in the plot or something that doesn't make sense w/ the stretch), then please tell me about it in the review. Enjoy!

Changes range from...: **"A syrupy, bitter liquid gnawed at my eyes..."** to **"Don't you understand what's happened to us!" I stood up for the first time, knees buckling..."**

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**Chapter Three: Hatchlings and Capture **

I floated along a vast sea of nothingness, no control of my movements, no sight. The sea had no surface, nor a bottom, but my limp body, or what was left of it, lapped me above a giant roll of waves, drifting me farther and farther out into this cosmic ocean of darkness. A distant pain I couldn't pinpoint clawed deep within, threatening to snap and rip my soul in pieces if I didn't swim to shore. But I was so tired...too tired to even exist anymore, as that had become the hardest struggle of all...

The hand that had tried in a failed attempt to stop the attack had but a single string of flesh clinging my wrist; everything else on my body littered with deep cuts that bore no blood. I couldn't feel the injuries; I was beyond feeling, I guess. However, an annoying enternal tug jerked occasionally, and would have made me gasp in pain had I the ability. Why wouldn't it leave, and let me rest, let the currents ripping beside me carry me farther and farther away? I wanted peace, but it seemed that in these times, I was never going to get any of it again.

Ignoring the pull, I moaned an internal sigh. What was the point of not seeing where I was headed? It might even distract me from the pain... Opening my eyes a slit, I was startled at what I wasn't seeing. I had expected the darkness to swallow my vision, but from the moment I had opened my eyes, the sea, the pain, my entire body itself, had been snatched from the bowels of my mind, slipping away from my memory like a dream you regretted waking up from.

A syrupy, bitter liquid gnawed at my eyes, and I closed them again, trying, unsuccessfully, to rub them with my hands. Something pressed tightly around me, forcing me into an uncomfortable ball with panic bubbling in my throat. I longed to cry out for assistance, but the liquid would surely choke back my words and squeeze the breath from my lungs. For that split second of sight, I could have sworn I saw shadows moving anxiously outside my prison, murmuring low voices that I couldn't hear.

"This one should have hatched by now...all the others eggs have already. Do you think it's a dud?"

Frantic, my lungs beginning to protest, I uncurled my feet in an agonizing slowness, hurling them heavily into the cocoon that prevented me escape. For a moment I could feel the wall falter, only to slowly fall back into place, pressing my knees back into my chest.

"No! Look! It's still alive!"

Since these words didn't reach my ears, I dismissed them. Then, a thought struck me. Why would I need air if I were already dead? Had I been given a chance to live? Gradually, I could feel myself weakening, giving in to the current that had begun to arise. My mind blackened. _No! I won't let myself lose this chance!_ I thought firmly, clawing through the abyss like curtains draping over me, piling up higher and higher. Despite my mental efforts, I knew that this was a vain attempt. I could feel my life scittering away. The lighthouse of life had, for far too long a time, been out of sight. So tired...

And then there was a sickening crack inches from my face, traveling down the sides and breaking the wall in two. Fresh air swirled within my lungs and my first instinct was to wail as loud as I could, flush out what used air remained. A tube wormed its way in between my lips, then drew back when only precious air escaped from my mouth. Silky clothes clamped around my body at once, quieting me, and placed me gently inside something very warm and comfortable once the heavyness of my body was eased. It was terribly hard to open my eyes now for some reason, and I still couldn't hear. Was I deaf? Where were my eyes? I tried moving, but the _heaviness..._ it held me down. Imobile. Useless. Could hardly see, couldn't hear or move. The fright was so horrible...

I'm not sure how much time had gone by when warm leathery skin jostled me from sleep. It grasped the sides of my mouth, forcing them to open. I realized how hungry I was and felt myself trying to scream. The inside of my throat vibrated until it hurt, so I must have been, and quite loud. I then tasted rubber in my mouth, the thick scent of it clogging my nose. A warm liquid slithered down my throat. Coughing and sputtering, I tried to push it away with hands that held no strength to do so. _Help! I'm drowning! _The skin massaged my back gently and wiped away the hateful liquid. The moment I could breath properly, it slipped into my mouth again, chocking me until I clawed at the darkness feebly in a silent pleading for it to stop. To my surprise, the skin left me alone for a few peaceful moments. I used every second to try and open my eyes, or listen for something, _anything _to prove to myself that I wasn't deaf. I knew I wasn't blind, because I could feel my eyes looking this way and that. They just wouldn't open.

Oh no... The skin's presence returned. It didn't carry the rubber scent anymore, but I wasn't comforted by this at all. Massive strength kept me from struggling as a tube traveled up my nose and down my throat. I screeched my protest, especially when I felt the warm liquid inside of the tube. What was it _doing _to me? Killing me! It wanted to murder a sightless deaf girl! Instead of crying out of a now curiously quenched hunger, I did it out of sorrow. LEAVE ME ALONE! But it didn't, for a few more minutes anyway. I decided to stop struggling and concentrated mainly on not choking to death on this...stuff. If it was poison, all the better for me when I was released from this torture. When it finally did leave for the time being, I immediatly fell asleep. Even there, my dreams lacked sight and sound. I wanted to kill myself before I went insane. Too bad I couldn't.

Things went on like that for days. As the time went by, I noticed that I could indeed hear, but it was weak, and took several days more to actually destinguish certain one syllable words. I counted how many days went by from the silence of the night to the noisyness of the day. On the ninth day, I fought with the skin that fed me and refused to cooperate when it tried shoving that feeding tube up my nose. I was willing to taste the bitter rubber if I didn't have to choke on my meal. For once, things turned out right, and I actually drank from a bottle. My dignity withered even further than when they bathed me, but I was satisfied that my captives knew what I wanted.

It was quite a shock about a week later when I woke from my sleep to find that my eyes were working again. It was even more of a shock when I looked up at bright flourecent lights hanging above me, and curled into a ball for minutes until the pain left. After investigating what it was I was in, I was no closer to finding out where the hell I really was. It was just a dreary gray box with a cotton floor that was always warm.

That was the day I found out that I would be "put in with the rest of the batch" soon, whatever that meant. My captive's identity was still unknown to me, since, like my hearing, it would take a while for sight to fully develope. What had happened to me to make me so helpless? Where were the others? Did they even know where I was?

It was the seventeenth day. For seventeen days I had to endure feedings, urged sight and hearing to increase, and slowly progressed in unsteady steps. I longed to look in a mirror, because appearently, my skin was now yellow, and had only four fingers on each hand. It really creeped me out when I first saw it yesterday. You can only imagine how I felt when I saw that the ones who were holding me here were giant human being scientists. Aside from size, they were normal and amazingly intelligent. I could hear what they said clearly, but most of the time they spoke in genius tongue. Anyway, now that my sight, mobility, and hearing were developed, they were planning on moving me from inside this...thing. I tried staying awake for when they tried to move me; I was going to make a run for it when they did, but my stubborn eyes grew heavy, and I fell asleep.

"Jade..." A voice crawled into my dreams, partially dragging me out sleep. "If you're Jade, please wake up. It's Jill." At that, I snapped my eyes open in surprise, to find I was staring into a tan wall that reached up to as high as the average ceiling would. There was a faint reflection staring at me that I paid no attention to. I made my first try of speaking words.

"Who el-else..." I began in small, premature voice, my tongue rolling differently from what I was a saying. "D-do you-ho think I am? And wh-y is my tongue doing this?" I licked my lips experimentally. The same shape, same size.

The roof above me had small squares dotting it, reminding me of air holes for the bugs I used to capture and put inside small boxes. Giant figures shuffled about behind it, most likly the human giants. A familiar white cotton covered the floor I was resting above, once again in a constant warm temperature. Where were we?

"Take a closer look at your reflection, Jade..." Jill said quietly. I obeyed, and nearly screamed. Actually, I _did _scream. Very loudly. A rodent face looked back at me, eyes wild and scared. It was disgusting to look at, so I closed my eyes tightly.

Too frightened to open them again, I buried my face into the soft material that reminded me of my pillow. I wanted to block out the thoughts that streamed by me, but it was as useless attempt as it was when I tried to escape death. Gripping the fluff so unyieldingly, that I threatened to pull it out from under me, I could do nothing to stop the answers. Those creatures above us were humans. We weren't humans. They were. We weren't. The same, terrifying answer tapping back and forth in my mind like ping-pong balls.

I tried to stop myself from asking this, but before my mind had caught up with my mouth, it was already asking, in a very, very quiet voice.

"Wh-tat pokémon am I, Jill..?" My voice didn't match up with how I was feeling inside. Inside, I was crying like a frightened child, repeating over and over how much I wanted Mommy, and knowing I was never going to get her.

"You're a Pichu." I heard two extra male voices chime in with my twin's.

I sat in my corner, not a sound in response. This was really happening. I had hatched from a fcking _egg_.

"...we didn't do anything to deserve this." Joe fumed, anger rising in his tone. He was so scared and confused; I could tell.

"Do you think our parents are worried? Personally, I hope they aren't worrying too much...I don't think mom could handle it if we went missing too..." Jill began, and I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Did either of you dream about those creatures?" I heard Marc murmur.

"Yeah, they were legendaries. I saw a Lugia, and it was pretty freaky…" Joe trailed off.

"Don't you understand what's happened to us!" I stood up for the first time, knees buckling, and screamed in their faces, hot tears that I was unaware of licking down my cheeks and absorbed into my fur. "Forget about them! Look at us! We are pokémon now! We aren't human anymore! We're never going to be human again!" I saw Joe, a hapless Charmander, sob, shoulders shaking, and suddenly all my rage had been sucked dry. Jill was holding back her own rage, a Chikorita biting her lip and flashing her eyes at me. The only one with a straight face was a bulky Totodile, who I assumed was Marc.

"Jade...look." Joe peered out from behind Jill, pointed a trembling finger in my direction. It was then that I noticed a pungent stench spiraling around me playfully, escaping up through the ceiling. My cheeks felt hot, like when I'm embarrassed, and the cotton next to me had burns gnawing through it, sizzling and smoking. Another question answered. I had used my first attack. Chuckling nervously, I tried to sit up straight, but my legs were held fast to the ground. "I guess I got a little too angry just then, huh?"

Joe looked up from his hands, eyes puffy and red. "Why'd they do this to us? I never saw you black out back there, Marc. Tell us what happened."

Having already replayed the Mew's words, and his own thought out lie, in his mind, he had an answer ready for them. " I did pass out. I had a dream about them. One of them said 'We have suffered greatly for your foolishness, so you shall suffer as well.'" He recited, as if reading from a book. "It said something about altering our appearance, like we did to them. I'm guessing that the tattoos we drew weren't supposed to remind us of our childhood; it was just to never abandon pokémon as we grew older. And when think about it, that's true."

Suddenly, a giant shadow blocked out the light, and a hand larger than me reached inside the incubator. Five fingers clamped together under my body, scooping me out of the warmth. He was wearing a heavy white trench coat; glasses perched halfway down his nose. Smiling at me, he stroked the fur on my back with one finger, cooing softly. "I guess you're alright now. I saw your electricity at work this early of age. Remarkable."

I swerved my head around, watching in horror as three other men bent down inside the large tank, retrieving the struggling forms of my friends. Clawing harmlessly up his fingers, I attempted to jump off onto the floor, only to be caught again in the air. He laughed anxiously, tightening his grip painfully around my chest. "Oh, no you don't. You still haven't been tagged yet."

For some reason, the tone of his voice frightened me. My lower lip trembled. My eyes widened with tears, looking up at the man miserably. I was bending my ears back so far; I could feel it grazing the fur behind me. Why was I doing this? This certainly wasn't what I was feeling.

He laughed playfully, taunting me like a cat to its prey. "Now don't go trying that baby charm on us. We're highly trained for moves like yours."

Shaking away the false face with difficulty, I looked him in the eye, crying out franticly and pulling away his fingers. "I'm not a pokémon! I'm human! I'm not supposed to be tagged!" But all he could hear was an irritating shriek.

His smile faded, and he carried me towards a table, eager to be done with me now that he knew I wasn't the cute little creature he had raised when I was unhealthy. The moment he laid me down onto the cold, slippery surface, I ran like a bullet to the side, meeting numbingly hard into his outstretched hand, ready for such an action. Dazed, my eyes rolling, he forced me on my back, while rummaging in nearby drawers, and retrieving what looked like a hole puncher, pinching it experimentally in the air.

"So this is how it feels to be a pokémon in captivity." I said to him, eyes gleaming with hatred. "Studies and fear all your life."

My small body shook as the cold, metallic tool slipped around my ear, glaring at me innocently, as if beckoning me to think of a happy moment like a doctor sneaking closer and closer to your arm. I struggled weakly, whimpering in a last attempt at human speech. "No, no...please understand..." But he paid no attention to it. When his hand tensed, I looked away, bracing for the searing pain. It never came.

His grip released, allowing me full, healthy breathes, and reaching up for his face covered in a mess of green vines. He was screaming, but it was muffled by whatever it was constricting him. I flipped onto my legs, scampering across the counter and leaping down to the ground. Starter trainers in a line, eager for a first pokémon, immediately began fiddling with their pokéballs, but none were any threat to me. My only route was actual sunlight pouring out from the hatch doors. They were open.

I heard a popping noise nearby, a sharp pain in my shoulder blade, and an alien force sapping my strength out from beneath me like a carpet. Legs crumpling, I slid across the floor, inches from my goal. With one last shuddering sigh, I flopped my hand towards the dart, pulling it out with a grunt. And it was the last thing I remembered doing.

It was the prickly pain in one ear that had woken me up. I couldn't feel warmth where I lay, or the powerful light berating my eyes. A flat surface lay underfoot, cold and slippery. My face was pressed against something cool, damp from steady breathes.

Opening my eyes groggily, my vision distorted from the drug, I pulled away from the glass I had been leaning into, smacking my lips at the odd feeling of dry spit cracking against fur. All around me, a large glass tube towered high above, ending at about three feet in length. The noisy sound of an air filter prevented me of any more deeply wanted sleep.

I looked to the side of my pen, spying three other pokémon sleeping soundly, red-feathered darts sticking into their bodies and could not swallow the fear clawing at my throat. They all had tags. White banded rings with small computer numbers on it embedded into their skin with dry blood crusting around it. Jill had one at the tip of her chikorita leaf, Joe an inch from where tail would end and flame would burn, and Marc into one of the spikes along his tail.

Snaking my fingers across my tag with mounting terror, I gingerly tugged at the plastic band on my oversized ear like an unwanted piercing. A sticky substance had fastened into the fur.

I was angry. A fury I wasn't familiar with was pacing inside my chest like a trapped animal steadily growing ferocious as its instincts reeled back to reality.

"You _humans_," My voice spoke wickedly, spitting out the last word in a voice I wasn't familiar with. "Have no right to treat us like this!"

For a moment, a loathing burned into the beings outside of my glass prison. If I ever escaped from this hellish place, my freedom would never be the same. I could never leisurely walk out into the open, fancying a marvel at the town I lived in without the risk of a human noticing and trying to capture me. I could never walk into the safe haven of a roof without being chased out a moment later by a frantic housewife. In such an odd turn of events, my greatest ally had become my greatest enemy.


	4. Meeko

Author's Note: Hey everybody! Chapter Four is out after a long week's wait. Thank you for all the reveiws and suggestions, even though one of the very important changes (pokémon w/ human personalities) won't be made since it's linked to the plotline. Just as a footnote, Meeko is the character based on the 'hero' in Gold and Silver versions. You'll be seeing more of him way later on. Enjoy! -

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**Chapter Four: Meeko  
**

Once realizing that I was awake, the humans strode over to me, clipboards concealing their faces, overly sized glasses concealing their eyes. They murmured in low noises I would normally understand, but my anger wouldn't allow my swimming thoughts to settle.

A finger crept close to the glass, wavering in front of my face in an irritating way that urged me to bite. Instead, I followed with my eyes while wrinkling my lips into a snarl, knowing that if I tried to strike against the glass, it would bring pain.

I heard more whispers hard to understand and one of the humans lowered an item with a lovely smell just above arms reach inside my cage. Simple enough. I just had to stand on my toes to get it, maybe jump a little. Retrieving the item, and feeling it with my hands, I suddenly understood. This was an IQ test. They wanted to see how smart I was. My anger ebbed away.

"Alright," I said, smiling and nibbling on my sweet-tasting prize. "This seems easy. At this rate they'll be asking me to write sentences."

I dropped the item, my fingers shaking with excitement. If they allowed me to write sentences, than maybe I could explain to them what happened to us. I mean, I couldn't change the way I move my hand.

"But that's what I thought about my tongue." I said sullenly, looking away.

For the next half-hour I sat there, doing as they pleased. Like a sober man passing the drunken test, I started and finished anything they showed me. So far, I knew mobile skills, logical wit, and mathematics (they were especially surprised at this). By that time, the others had woken up and each given the same IQ test. Marc tried to attack the finger, Joe cringed as far away from it as possible, and Jill stood there with that annoyed and bewildered look on her face, just as I had done.

"This bunch is extraordinary!" One exclaimed, failing to hide the delight in his voice. "Never in all my studies have I seen a pokémon with the ability of math without teaching!"

"Or a Chikorita that knew vine whip this early." Another added, looked back from in front of Jill's cage. "How is the rest of the test coming along with the Pichu? Have you finished with its mental capabilities?"

"Yes, and it passed everything I threw at it! Quick Oliver, scan through the hatching notes; observe the things we did differently this time around." Said the human staring at me, refusing to move. "And while you're at it, open up this one's cage."

At once, the pressure in the cell evaporated; the air inside hissing out from the glass hatch door in a white haze. I shielded my eyes from the vapor around me, too curious and smart to try escaping again.

The man's fingers gripped a flab of skin on the back of my neck. He picked me up, the skin going disgustingly high up with him. My feet lifted into the air, but I didn't feel the pain of skin being torn from its base. He had me by the scruff of my neck.

Howling from the pain of slaughtered dignity, I twisted side to side, clawing at the air. A female voice cooed from far away, and the males chuckled at my struggles.

Before I could even give up fighting against the strong grasp of his fingers, he had laid me in yet another cage, but the ground was littered with gray tiles, white lined scars digging deeply into the floor. Thick glass walls prevented me of escape, just as scarred as the floor I was standing on.

Several feet forward, a sphere roughly the size of my torso stared back at me, shining white at the bottom, red at the top. It split in half like a walnut at the sound of a high whistle, screaming a blinding flash. A creature's silhouette, rimmed in a thin layer of white, appeared where the ball had been seconds before, reminding me of a large rat.

The light dimmed, and in a flash of purple, something had pinned me against the wall, snarling and hissing. Its claws ripped clumps of fur from my chest and face, sending yellow fuzz all about. Confused and scared, I screamed, holding my arms up to my eyes.

"No, stop! Get away!" I sobbed, surprised that a rattata could be so strong.

This wasn't so fun anymore. The IQ test had ended, and a new one had begun. Now it was my strength being put to the test and in the worst ways possible.

Anger flared again, and scorching heat spurted from my cheeks. I felt the pokémon's body stiffen up and back away; it's vicious attacks thankfully ceasing. Looking up at it, I saw sparks binding across its body, causing pain wherever the energy decided to land. It was opening and closing its mouth in a failed attempt of crying out, eyes open.

"...are you okay?" I asked weakly, unsure if it could understand.

Swerving its head in my direction, it snapped its teeth as an answer, piteously crawling back over to me, to try and fulfill the duties it was now destined to complete. Another burst of light, and the rat was gone, and before I knew what was happening, so was I. Carried by the scruff, they dropped me back inside my former glass prison, left alone to weep in my own fright that they believed to be false.

By the time my heart had dropped to a normal rate, and the uncontrollable tremors of my body had pasted, I was forced to sit and listen to the cries of terror Josef made as he was ruthlessly tossed about in the battle cage, begging the pokémon he was up against to stop. Marc's battle burned into my memory, the fear bitter in my mouth. I can still here his opponent's near death cry. He battled so fiercely against his foe (a pidgey), leaping onto its back and clamping his jaws around a wing, that they had to force him to stop, caring him back with a cloth muzzle. Jill fared luckier than any of us, having gone up against a small bug pokémon and won when threatening to accidentally crush it with her legs.

Both the boys were in a daze when they returned. When Jill rapped against the glass, Joe looked over her weakly, then turned away. Marc snarled and then ranted to his brother about how he had always been the weaker sibling, voice muffled by his muzzle meant for more vicious maws.

But I wasn't listening. I was watching the line of starter trainers growing shorter and shorter, and the quantity of pokéballs getting smaller and smaller. I knew sooner or later, we would be the ones inside those things, clasped into the sweaty hands of a small boy who probably didn't even know how to release us. Perfect. Just the way I wanted my life to turn out.

By then I was picking out the one trainer who looked like he was almost worthy to raise me. I had narrowed my search down to a single boy, the only one of the bunch who wasn't grumbling about how ridiculously early they had to wake up just to sit in line for hours.

Looking up, he met my gaze and waved to me, smiling warmly. This boy looked like he had a kind heart, and, I observed with a touch of red in my face, that he was handsome by all means.

His hair was dark and messy in an attrsctive sort of way, draping down to his narrow cheekbones in an uneven line of black. In his hands was a basic black cap, wrapped so tightly in fingers, occasionally strings of it glided to the floor. The skin on his face was pale, his dark eyes gentle and glittering with an unknown humor.

A green backpack's arm was slung over his shoulder, the other swaying broken on his side. The mouth of it was open wide; its contents filled with items his mom had obviously packed for him. His attire must have been given too him by an older sibling. He wore an old red vest with several zipper-less zipper pockets and a plain bleached black tee underneath. His jeans were threadbare in places and faded in color up to his ankles, the skin on his knees showing through a net of tears.

His smile faltered at the response he was given by the boys. Joe curled into a ball, trembling, and Marc snarled, hurtling himself at the glass. He stood up from his perch in the corner of the room, concern and curiosity enveloping his once glee filled eyes. For a moment of immediate relief, he melted away with the crowd of chatting ten year olds, only to reappear so close to my face, his breath fogged against the glass.

"How come you guys are scratched up?" He asked us gently, as if expecting an answer.

One of the scientists that had been hovering close by hopped in front of Joe's cage protectively, puffing out his chest. "These hatchlings have merely taken their battling test, if you weren't paying attention a few minutes ago." His glasses caught a glare from a light and his eyes shone through the lenses, narrowed. "And I'll have to ask you to step away from these four. They have been specified as pokémon with irregular and overpowered brain cells. This means that their intelligence matches to that of humans."

"Really? Neat." He said flatly, smearing away an importance the scientist aide thought he had had. "But I have a question...Why do they need to be battle tested?"

The man shifted uncomfortably, fingers twitching and moist with a thin sheet of forming sweat. "Err- that would be confidential, my good man..."

"Why so? What do you do with the ones that fail?" He demanded, leering up at the man's eyes, which were now squinted in confusion.

"See here young man, you're getting your nose into something a nose shouldn't be in!" He scolded, fumbling with his notepad and pencil and retaining what little was left of his professional look. "I'll have to ask you're name, age, and address..."

"I live here." The boy rolled his eyes. "But my name is Meeko and I'm fourteen years old."

"Humph, just like a teenager to ask questions. And a bit late to be starting your training now… Here." He ripped the lined paper out of the notebook, handing it to Meeko. "Go up, give Elm the note, and ask for your pokémon. Leave immediately after. I don't want you back in here again, unless you have questions about raising your..." He looked up from his spectacles.

"My Totodile." Meeko replied curtly, turning his back on the man and cutting in front of the envious looks he was receiving from the next two soon-to-be trainers.

Nose pointed upward, the aide departed in a huff, blood steaming to his face.

"Hey." Meeko's face was suddenly in front of mine, a habit he seemed to like. "I know what they do to you guys that fail their tests."

With a startled cry, I reeled backwards into the glass behind me, only slightly interested in his words.

He stifled a laugh; his face twisted in excitement at what he was about to do. "They get rid of them. And those like you…never step outside."

I bent my ear to the side in confusion, bending painfully against the other side of the glass casing. "What are you talking about? They couldn't treat us like that."

"Shh!" Meeko scolded me like a child, unknowing that I was probably only a few months younger than he. "You're friends cages are all unlocked. We have to hurry if you want a life outside that glass cage."

I smiled, not because of the freedom he was willing to risk for us, but the way he talked to me. Even if he clearly didn't understand my new tongue, he explained it to me like I was a human being, not some wild experiment with a tag clipped onto my ear.

He slid the card key over the scanner, muttering quick instructions. "This is going to be risky. I don't think the others are fully awake yet. But we have to try. When I start to leave, I'll shove another trainer into the bookcase; the noise'll be sure to give you enough time to jump out and make a run for it."

An awkward plan, I had to admit, a plan that had a higher percentage of failing than working. _They might not use darts to keep us in the next time we escape. _I thought, shuddering at the thought of giving in to a trainer's pokéball, giving in my freedom in order to become a slave.

Without warning, the window above the rows of pokémon shattered into fragments of glitter, littering the floor with myriad shards of cheap glass. A gloved hand reached in, grabbing the first pokéball his fingers grasped upon. Aides tried in a futile attempt to climb out the window after the boy who had stolen a pokémon. At first I was thankful for the theft because in response, a herd of aides and beginning trainers alike stormed to the front door. Amides the crowd, I heard Meeko's voice.

"Run!"

The effect was immediate. Four creatures hurled against their cages, the glass swinging open as willingly as a dog door. We all slid across the floor, fumbling weakly with the new set of legs to support our running. I heard individual cries of alarm that we had escaped, but I barely heard them. My eyes were fixed on the pathway where vines of legs had dispersed, allowing enough room to freedom. The towering bodies of my friends hurtled past me, leaving their short-legged lingerer behind. "Wait!" I screeched in panic louder than planned.

A sharp whistling cut through the air. Through mid-strides, the three ahead of me froze in place, eyes glazed, trying to pinpoint the hypnotic noise. I found myself sitting on my knees, staring deeply at the lines in between tiles. It wormed its way into my thoughts, spreading its drunken sickness across like venom. The noise grew louder, the unknown creature hurtling towards me with inhuman speed from behind. At first, I thought it was a bird attacking me, but I was quickly corrected. I saw a glimpse of red and white as the item struck painfully into my neck. I opened my mouth to scream, but made no sound.

My eyes were tightly closed and yet I could see everything around me as clearly if they had been opened. Like in a dream, I felt like I was losing weight by the second, every limb breaking down into tiny particles. All I could see was a dark dome shape with bright flashes of lightning that sliced open my eyelids like knives. Tendrils of pulsing yellow and black energy wrapped gleefully around my wrists, ankles, and neck, sapping away my strength with wintry coldness. Like a prisoner before his enemy soldiers, I allowed it to taunt me, until I realized what was happening. I was in a pokéball.

Questions bloomed in my head at once, but one of hundreds was cold and frightening: How would I escape?

Desperate, I lifted up my head, straining the cords around my neck that strained with my stolen energy. Struggling to sit upright, I pulled up my wrists, feeling the pressure weakening. The screeching noise shot like a bullet deeper into my ears, trying to weaken its captive. The dome shifted, light poured inside, and weight returned. With a loud crack, the void vanished, and I was on the tiles again, amongst the jungle of legs. Far away, a man cursed.

I wasted no time recovering from the shock. Breaths coming out in rapid chains, I dove for the door, feeling, for the first time, the warmth of an alien sun.


	5. Stranger in Black

Last Week... _A boy named Meeko helped the four escape from the lab, which was currently preoccupied with the mysterious thieving of a pokémon. Jade was almost captured inside a pokéball during the escape, but otherwise she and the other three were unharmed._

Author's note: Yes, yet another week has gone by and here we are with another relatively short chapter. For those that are interested, I've gotten through a bit of chapter twelve and should finish it soon since I've had many writing inspirations for these past few days. It should be pretty obvious for Gold & Silver gamers that this thief is the red headed rival in the game. Enjoy this chapter all! If I finish twelve before next Wednesday rolls around, you can expect another chapter earlier than planned.

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**Chapter Five: Stranger in Black**

As I look back on it, I'm not so sure how all of us escaped from that lab unharmed despite the confusion swirling around me. It was all a big blur of running, dodging the deadly strides of a human, and a police siren's angry wail drawing closer and closer. The mixture of yelling and gossip sounded so distant to me, heard from under a thin sheet of cotton. That piercing whistle was still ringing deep inside my ear, muddling my thoughts. I can hardly remember diving into the safety of thick bushes near the town's border and the looks on my friends faces, glazed and unfocused.

For a while, no one spoke, as dazed and confused as a man who stank of fresh alcohol. The crowd was quieting, and so were our thoughts. I'm not sure how much later it was, but gradually, Jill, Joe and Marc could understand what was happening, the whistle in their ears gone. They gave me odd glances, like they weren't staring at the same Pichu they had only minutes ago. In response to their gaze, I smiled stupidly, dimly aware what was happening. I could still feel the sheer cold of the cords clutching my wrists, the gradual but sure feeling of my energy ebbing away, and the piercing scream of the pokéball furious with unwanted struggle. It was all still imprinted so deeply, seizing thought.

"Suppose we should wake her up?" Jill stated matter-of-factly, wavering a vine in front of my smile.

"I don't know; I mean, she was inside the thing. Think of what might happen after." Joe said nervously, looking over his shoulder.

"She'll wake up." I heard Marc reply, sauntering over me like a clumsy beast. He bent beside me out of sight, and I felt a raking pain on my tail. It was the unmistakable feeling of jaws clamped over me, teeth readying for a muscle tearing shake.

"Get off!" Was my immediate reply, snarling and feeling a burst of heat escape through my cheeks. Pain and unnatural exhaustion had wiped away the noise like a cobweb. Sense had returned.

He released, uttering a throaty cry like that of the rattata, jumping backwards and twisting on the ground. His limbs convulsed with bird-like movements, and what little conscious thought still remaining had been directed at his foe. With milky green eyes, he bore holes into me that pleaded release, filling me up with a tank of guilt.

"…What the hell's the matter with you?" He said after a while, clenching his fists into the ground. His eyes were tightly closed, and his head turned away from me.

Looking to the others for assistance only made me feel more alone. Jill's eyes were cold, expectant, and Joe was doing as his brother did, not meeting my gaze. "I can't help it. This is harder than it looks." I said meekly, cutting away the edge in my voice.

"Josef and Jill can help it. I can help it." Marc stood up shakily, supporting his weight on one knee. He looked over at me, anger sprouting. "You don't see us shooting water or flame at anyone. Their _friends_." He spat out the last word in disgust, like it was a lie. I could sense the fury in his voice, not just from the attack, but something else I couldn't pinpoint. It made his scent bitter in my nose.

"I'm sorry." I managed to say to the hulking creature before me, feeling smaller than I already was.

"Well," He stood up straight, dusting away at his scales. "The sooner you change back, the better. You're such an ass in this body."

"When exactly is that?" Jill dared question, brow furrowed. "You talk like you're so sure of yourself."

Marc's spine prickled. The rotting stench returned. "…You all dreamt about the legendaries, right?"

I nodded, an idea already planned in my head. "I remember it because of the smell. It was the smell of a burned down building. Anyone have any idea where a burned down building is?"

"This is New Bark Town…" Joe said timidly, unfazed that he was really there. "Jhoto region. The burned tower in Ecruteak." Having more experience with the games then any of us, Joe knew the mental image of his versions by heart. This was the only time he ever sounded confident in himself. "That's where the legendaries are."

Jill's shoulders sagged at the thought of such a long journey ahead. "But we barely made it this far. How are we supposed to get all the way there?"

He shrugged, confidence diminished to a lifeless spark. "It's worth a try…"

"Let's go then." Marc grunted with one last final glare.

It was a risk the teenager had no regret for. He would just have to outrun the cops for now, until his pokémon was strong enough to defend him. But when that day came… Adrian smiled at the thought, fist clenched protectively around his prize. The sounds of sirens were dying away to the scene of the crime, allowing him a moment of bliss. He looked down at his cyndaquill on the ground before him with a sneer. "I am your master, Adrian. And you are my pokémon." It looked up at the frightening voice in confusion. "You are my slave."

His hair, a blazing red, hovered above his shoulders like a loyal raptor bird forever perched alongside his neck. He wore a thick leather coat that glittered with silver zippers full of stolen supplies, and boots that ended halfway to his shins with a silver tip. The thick black pants looked as if only the thinnest of belts were holding them up, heavy with the chains eager to meet gravities laws.

Adrian's gray eyes glittered at the hatchling, at the feebleness he would have to wring out of it. "You will be named Blaze. I expect my battles to be won, my wild pokémon be weakened." Blaze bowed in submission, not daring to anger this stranger in black who spoke like ice. "Take that Totodile coming up the road for example… If you would attack it please, than you might be fed tonight."

Legs made of stone, he trudged reluctantly towards Marc, feeling his master's eyes watching him. A cold fear traversed along the cyndaquill's spine and he was pretty sure that the approaching opponent had nothing to do with it.

"Look Marc, I'm sorry. You may have it under control, and I applaud you all for mastering your new body _so _easily… But can't you be reasonable for once?" I pleaded with carelessly disguised sarcasm. He refused to respond, too interested in the ground before us than the pointless raves I growled at him.

We had been stalking along the side path of the main road for a while now, all in awkward silence that was just begging to be shattered. How long could he keep this up for? Even if he was my friend, I knew that it wasn't wise to make enemies three times your size.

"Marc, if you're going to get mad at a little shock treatment from Jade, I doubt you could make it out alive in a real fight." Jill scoffed with a spiteful smirk.

Before he could think up of anything wise to say, something bounded through the bushes, colliding breathtakingly hard into Marc's chest. His body slid backwards into the ground, sending up dust that all seemed to be aiming for my eyes. Sputtering, I blindly dove sharply to the left, away from the struggles of battle.

When I turned back, a Cyndaquill with a tag was circling Marc's wheezing body, snarling chants in a slight singsong voice. "My wild pokémon to weakened, my battles to be won…"

"What's your problem?" Marc yelled to him with a snarl weakened by his injury.

Without answering it reeled backwards and charged at him again, but this time Marc dodge rolled out of the way only to let his foe crash into Joe who responded by kicking him sharply in the side with a clawed foot. I was about to jump in, when a presence flared up deep inside, freezing my movement. Wintry pricks of coldness seeped throughout my veins and a voice echoed inside my head. **_"No, no, no little one. In this world, life _is_ fair." _**It felt like an alien hiding behind a human face. The voice sounded like me, but I could never sound so…wicked, so malevolent.

I shakily turned my head to Jill, whose eyes were widened at something I couldn't see. With that voice's words still bouncing in my head, the two brothers pounced on their attacker, clawing, biting, cursing.

"Stop!" It howled in a child voice like a ten year-old, unprepared for the double-teaming. "I should only be battling the Totodile."

"And why should I back off? You attacked him first." Joe panted defensively, ready for another round of unfair fighting.

"Adrian." It replied, righting itself and quailing in an unknown terror. "My master. He told me to attack you." He pointed weakly to Marc, an ugly purple welt mounting on his chest.

The ground shook with tremors I knew were caused by humans noisy stomping. A voice that cut deep into the air sent a shaft of coldness through me. "What did I just say to you? Attack now, Blaze!" A pair of strong hands tore the bush I was hiding in apart, and I felt myself flailing into the open being rained on by twigs. My fear laid that voice forgotten in the back of my head. _No, not out here with this kid around. Never. He's trouble, I know it._ I thought wildly, seeking another hiding spot.

Adrian however, was more interested in Blaze, quivering beneath this adolescent thief. He tapped the edge of his boot into Blaze's stomach, hard enough to send me flying a foot or two, but only strong enough for Blaze to stagger onto his back legs and stifle his coughing, grimaces of pain streaking his face.

The boy crossed his arms. "Well, weakling? Aren't you going to help me catch this creature?" It was hard to believe such a kid would follow the rules of only using his pokémon for battling. Adrian pulled back his foot, allowing Blaze to breathe again. He cast us a desperate glance, and I saw Joe relax his tensed muscles, battle lust gone.

"I'm sorry." Marc said with hollow words, baring his teeth that seemed purposely formed into a wolfish grin.

Blaze looked back at him, a speck of blood peering out on his chest where the sharpest point broke the skin. "You should be." And with that, they lunged, tumbling in a mass of claws and collision charges.

In the middle, they fell to the ground and Blaze pulled away from him, readying for the only attack he knew. Marc followed up at Blaze regardless of his foes strategy, grabbing an arm in his jaws and tugging the rest of him into the ground. He had one hand pressed into the cyndaquill's back, the other readying to strike. I thought for sure he would win right then, but Blaze spurted a single shot of flame from his back, charring Marc's palm. In his pause of attack, Blaze uppercut him with a full body tackle, snapping Marc's open jaw together with surprising volume.

I'm pretty sure he expected Marc to founder after that, because when he stood fast, gripping at Blaze's arms, he was clueless as to what happened. With a smile not like himself, Marc bent back Blaze's arms, pinning the youngling to the ground. Now that his back was pressed into the dirt, Marc could continue what he started before, raising his claws.

Blaze whimpered piteously, turning away his head. "Please, let me beat you...My master, Adrian-"

Marc leaned closer, whispering so none of us could hear but Blaze. "Sorry, but you're on your own with that one, kid."

Looking up at Marc, he narrowed his eyes, struggling meekly under his iron grip. "We are rivals."

"That we are, 'Weakling.'"

I looked away when he brought down his claws, bracing for the terrible noise of a child's scream. Hearing nothing, I dared look over. Marc was standing over earth, not pokémon, all that was left of the cyndaquill's body a rosy outline. Two-inch thick claw marks were embedded deep into the earth were Blaze's chest would have protected it.

When he looked up to where Adrian had been only seconds before, he was gone. The sounds of distant police cruisers began to call.

"Where'd he go?" Joe craned his neck for a better view over the road.

"Away from the police. And I think we should got too, if we're wearing these things." Jill painfully reminded me what was hanging so heavy on the tip of my ear.

Each giving each other's tags a sickened glance, we shot out into the road, running the rest of the way to Cherrygrove City.

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Not to litter my chapters with advertisements but... if you people like what you see, or are interested in creating your own pokémon transformation story, you can post it at... uh, well, I'm not sure how to put URLs up here, so the forum title is 'pokemon transformations'. See you there. - 


	6. A Battler as Dirty as Marc

Last week... _The four conclude that their destination is the Burned Tower in Ecruteak City. On their way to Cherrygrove City, they meet up with the thief (Adrian)that, ironically, assisted in the escape. His pokémon, a cyndaquill named Blaze, was ordered to attack Marc, and they engaged in a fight. Blaze lost miserably, forcing the abusive trainer to flee from the police without a second pokémon clipped to his belt._

Author's Note: Hope you guys like this chapter. Very nice cliffhanger at the end (don't go peeking, now!). This author's note is mainly for PinkParka, since I keep cluttering up my review inbox with my own replies. Now, about the pokémon acting too much like humans: Yes, you're absolutely right. My characters have actedtoo human like, but this is mainly because most of the pokémon they meet up with will be foes. I refuse to follow along in the common stereotype of the 'evil villain' not being able to communicate with his prey/victim. My pokémon will continue to act like humans throughout the story. And yes, it is bad how I make the newborns so active on their first day. Can you blame me? The readers want a fast moving story that grips their attention... not a nature documentary.

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**Chapter Six: A Battler as Dirty as Marc**

I never liked it when people stared at me, and still don't. It makes me feel like some painting on display, constantly being judged, gawked at by the things that made me unique. When I walked into the city, I expected the same, but worse, with trainers at the ready to ambush me and end up in a battle I would most likely lose. What I got was completely different.

"Oh, look at the little baby Pichu!" A woman my age just exiting the pokémart gushed, pointing at me with one hand and holding several shopping bags in the other. She bent down on one knee, snapping her fingers and smacking her lips together. "C'mere sweetie, c'mon…"

"Do I look like a cat?" I spat back at her with my high voice, bending an ear to the side.

Giggling and squealing in response, the teenager sat up straight, lopsided against the weight on one side. "I have to go now Baby, buh-bye!"

"Buh-bye cupcake!" I called, my lip curled up in disgust. From the corner of my eye I spotted Marc giving me a look of envy and rolled my eyes. "It'll be worse in the pokémon center. I know you're tired guys, but I'd rather just sleep on the ground tonight. Maybe even get to Violet city before dark." Already the sun was dipping into the ocean to the west, a blinding white shimmer of ripples stretching to shore.

Thankfully, they all agreed. I didn't have the energy to fight with Marc right then.

Passing by the rest of the houses and shops, we stood in front of the route entrance, dismayed at the distance before us. It dragged on forward for a good mile, halting at the yawning mouth of a cave and turning left. I drew in a sharp breath. The way the trainers inside were patrolling the tall grass, we would at least have to go against one without attracting the attention of others.

"Which one do we battle?" I asked no one, drooping my eyes.

Marc pointed, wincing from the throb in his chest, at the dark haired boy swiping a net in random spots of the grass. He had a belt for his pokéballs, but we could only see one. "He looks easy. I want to battle."

"Be my guest." Jill said, pacing a few steps towards the bug catcher and withdrawing back, uncertain. "Are you sure you'll be alright? Battling with that bruise I mean?"

Whether he was thinking, or he had no answer and was pretending he didn't hear, I didn't know; his face, like always, was expressionless. Following his every noiseless step, we hugged the side of the route, large, dense thorn bushes beside us making a battle-free way just as painful.

When we dived into the yellow grass, he looked back to us, motioning for silence. With deliberate clamor, for he had no chance of evading his net, Marc jumped in front of the human, gripping his net in his teeth expertly. Without a sound as to arouse any competition for the rare pokémon, the boy immediately reached for one of his pokéballs on his belt, which had indeed carried two on the other side.

"I call it!" He yelled to the other trainers now that his pokémon was released. They turned their heads in reply, but other than that resumed searching for a rare find of their own.

In the grass Marc couldn't see what it was the boy called out until it attacked. At first he thought the heaviness of his limbs was in his head, until he began to notice the silk draped along his body, shining in the sun. He reached to tear it off with his claws, but his shoulder blades were glued in place. Grimacing, he reached with his jaw, only to find the sticky substance extremely bitter and just as sticky when in his mouth. Realizing the trouble he was in, he began to panic, now able to see the strings of silk without the sun's assistance.

"Ha, ha, we got'em now, Caterpie!" The trainer cried out. "Tackle!"

A small green figure swam though the grass, charging into Marc's thigh with little success of knocking him over. It bounced off the rubbery skin in a daze. _So this is what's been costing me the battle._ He thought, narrowing his eyes. Inhaling through his nose, Marc struggled to break free of his cocoon that was hardened under the heat. It was brittle enough to crack if he could just find that one weak spot…

Somewhere near his neck, a layer of silk snapped and he felt countless splinters of it shatter to the ground everywhere else. Muscles groaning in relief, he picked up the bug in one hand, steadily increasing his grip. Unable to do anything without arms, it writhed under his grasp, thumping his tail against Marc's wrist in a desperate attempt for freedom. Just before he was about to crush the fragile exoskeleton, it disappeared in a red haze. The boy had recalled it.

"Don, look's like ye got yeh'self a dirty fighter." A fellow bug catcher tapped the boy's shoulder with the hilt of his net, grinning broadly. "For the sake of ye insects, I'd send out that secret weapon o' yours."

Don looked over Marc carefully, who stood patiently waiting for another round. "Look at the battle glint in his eye. I'll humor him for now." The tone of his voice was unsettling as he released another pokémon.

Like before, Marc's foe stalked in the grass, waiting for the perfect instant to strike with its fastening silk. It crept silent and sluggish, shooting sprays into the wind to be carried to the opponent as to not reveal its hiding place. Ducking low to the ground, Marc scanned through the stalks of grass violently, powerless to penetrate the shield of camouflage; the Caterpie was an invisible assassin. Already it was becoming harder to move his legs, so his time was running out.

A heat in the back of his head shot through his eyes like a bullet, his eyesight faded into a bright red world. Startled, Marc blinked stupidly, rubbing away the heat. When he looked around in confusion, a bright white worm-like silhouette caught his eye. It was twitching on the ground not far from his wavering tail. A rush of opportunity seized him. With a bark of laughter, he swerved to the left, whipping his tail into the small bug. It cried out a high-pitched hiss in alarm, tumbling out into the road from the force of his swing. As lucky as its partner before it, the Caterpie disappeared.

I allowed myself to breath again, shocked at what I had seen. Leer was added to his list of attacks now, which brought his danger level all the more higher. Sure, he was my friend, but as long as Marc kept all the fights to himself, he would have control. And if anyone dared challenge that control, that deadly jaw power… I drew a shaky breath, my insides feeling fragile and cold.

"I'm really getting tired of this." Marc retorted to the grass, his eyes veiled with a thin red curtain.

He was searching for the final Caterpie, frustrated at the newly added layer of silk clinging to him. His jaw stiffened at a certain part of the grass and I new that this foe would need all the luck in the world to beat Marc. Like a great jungle cat, he stalked the immobile prey, smiling his triumph with glee. When he pounced into the grass, Don laughed, his eyes narrowed.

I heard the scuffling of heavy footsteps, and the shaking of the grass that combed high enough for only Marc's red forehead spikes to be seen, bobbing like a dorsal fin in the sea of shrubs. Like before, I saw the red gleam of his new attack, but never expected something like this to happen.

Marc reached out for what the white shape was thought to be a Caterpie, unaware of the flash of a needle. It drew back, and then flipped in midair, propelling its tail into his chest. He screeched loud enough for it to release and flee back to the grass in terror, knowing it had angered something with a foot larger than itself. With an infuriated snarl, he dove into the bushes again, and this time didn't give it a chance to strike. Or a chance for Don to run over to get in range of recalling his distressed pokémon. He had gotten bitter vengeance.

Marc brushed away the bushes impatiently, stepping aside for the Weedle's trainer to rush inside. When he walked over to us, he smiled; tossing Joe what it was he had done. In his small orange palm, there were two sharp objects. One was ivory white and looked more like a horn chewed up by a dog like it was a bone, the other a tiny barb, a disturbing yellow and black color. Joe looked up at his brother who beamed, nodding his head.

"You miserable piece of filth! Look at my Weedle!" Don wailed, cradling his now crippled insect close to his chest. It had a chewed up stump of what was once a handsome horn on its head, and a small flesh wound on the tip of its tail.

"Don, ye better bring it to the center…" His friend muttered, glaring at Marc. "And while yer at it, call the animal control. This thing doesn't belong outside."

The trainer looked down at Marc's bruise and smirked. "Let's hope this thing's injury will slow him down some..."

When they were out of sight, we barreled our way through the brush, congratulating Marc but refusing to mention the horrible trophies he had gotten for it. I could sense the anxiety that he was oblivious of, lost in his self praises. Jill held back from us, looking over her shoulder at the two human figures walking out of sight.

"…and did you see the way I beat that trainer's last pokémon, as much as a little shit it was being? After I did I ripped off- Marc paused in the middle of his sentence, his face scrunched up into an expression of pain. For a second as fast as the pain had come, his chest throbbed, his violet bruise talking on an uglier shade of purple. He breathed out, shakily finishing his sentence without any other sign of injury.

"You think you're so strong." Jill growled, rushing into his face. "Don't you understand what you did? Those stingers will never grow back. That's like cutting a human's right arm off, only that right arm was a tool of defense! Do you know what will happen to that Weedle because of what you did?" She didn't let him answer. "If they don't kill it, they'll have to take care of it until it does die. You're a dirty fighter, Marc."

Marc didn't respond, his face as unreadable as ever.

I knew something was wrong from the moment he stopped speaking and yet a part of me was relieved that this was so. It proved that this leader of mine had a weakness, while we were standing tall with energy not yet spent. Satisfied, I ambled past them all into the higher rows of grass, beginning the long trek to Violet City with Marc struggling from behind.

It was about a half hour since the sun set. They were still heading straight on a dirt road, and it was too dark to see where it turned. The only thing Marc could use as a guide was the steady bouncing of his brother's tail flame, which was getting smaller and smaller as he fell farther behind.

Black beads of sweat dripped from his snout, salty with the mixture of tears. A fever so great was steaming from his skin, that if you put your hand near it you could feel the heat. It felt as if every time his heart beat, a wire brush slashed at the inside of his chest. Eyes glazed from the pain, he was guessing that the bruise was swollen beyond recondition, too dark to see it, too tender to touch.

_Thu-thump, Thu-thump _protested his rapid heart, the beating roaring in his ears making his head split in two. He shook the sound away only for his gut to churn, forcing Marc to the ground, retching.

Voices cut like knives in his head. 'Blame you? My dear boy, what you may think of as blame, is a gift. Power that only you can exploit into usefulness.' Then Jill's voice, as cold and angry as before. You're a dirty fighter, Marc.'

He whiped his mouth clean, whispering feebly for his friends and brother. "Jill…Joe." A pause. "…Jade, please help me." The voices went quiet. All was dark.


	7. Battle of the Raptors

Last Week... _Having successfully beaten Adrian in a quick battle, the four leave Cherrygrove City and continue on to the next city. On the way, Marc confronts a bug trainer and learns leer. Unforchunately, it lead to his disadvantage and he got himself stung by a Weedle. Believing that the purple injury was just his bruise, the other three start off to Violet City as the sun begins to set, unaware thatMarc has been left behind in the dark..._

Currently Injuried: _Marc, suffering from a weedle sting._ _Status is Near Death_

Author's Note: Okay, chapter twelve was finished about a week ago and... I haven't written a words since! -' Major writer's block.

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**Chapter Seven: Battle of the Raptors**

"You're kidding me. It's a hospital for god's sake! They should never be packed." Jill tried to keep her voice down when speaking to the nurse; the journey to Violet city had been long and tiring.

"I meant what I said. The gym leader here stays open all night, and all night, pokémon come here in need of rooms. You could fair just as well sleeping outside." There was no mistaking the stress in the Chansey's voice. "Come back when you have an injury, and I don't mean something like a paper cut."

"But we do have someone hurt." Joe piped up defensively. "Can't you see the bruise on our friend's chest?"

"I don't see anyone, unless the little hatching by your foot counts as a person." She gave us a dirty look. "You're wasting my patience's and my time. Now get out before we make you."

We each exchanged puzzled glances until the color drained from Joe's face. "Where's Marc?"

The nurse rolled her eyes, tapping her pencil against the counter impatiently. "You're hilarious." She stood up tall, glowering down on us. "Get out of my sight before we're forced to take drastic measures."

"But we did have someone here with us!" Joe roared, a puff of smoke dribbling from his nostrils. "He was a Totodile! He had a bruise on his chest and now we can't find him!"

The nurse appeared unfazed aside from a glint of interest in her eyes, her lips pursed. "If you did have a friend, then if you go outside you're more than likely to find him. It was just a bruise, after all."

Stunned at Marc's abrupt absence, we headed for the door, making room for a haggard faced wild pokémon in line. "Just a matter of interest…how exactly did he obtain this 'bruise'?"

"A pokémon charged into him. He's had a string of battles on the way here about two hours ago, and he was having a bit of trouble keeping up." Jill answered, looking hopeful.

"And, what species of pokémon were these?" She asked, all of a sudden deeply concerned.

I thought for a minute before replying in a voice that didn't match my age. "A Cyndaquill, two Caterpie… and a Weedle." Before she could press on, a cold block of ice chilled my innards.

"Well, I hope you find him." She said hollowly, scribbling busily on a slip of paper. "I'll get a nurse ready for your return."

Nodding, we ran out, now knowing that we were racing against the clock, racing against the gradual effects of poison.

"Marc! Where are you?" In the dark, I could hear Joe's hysterical screaming, almost at the brink of tears. "Please answer me!"

"Joe, you have to calm down." Jill's gentle voice soothed both our pounding hearts. "Even if he does hear us I don't think he can talk."

"No." Was his shaky stubborn reply, forcing down a hiccup-sob. "But we need light to find him quicker."

"And where are you going to find it?" She spat back, drawing close to the warmth on his tail. "For all we know, he's unconscious and could take till morning to find him."

Joe whirled around on Jill, his burning tail swiping at her face. "He's going to be all right, you hear me! We're going to find him!" He shouted; his claws formed into an awkward fist. "And I don't want to hear anything else from you about it!"

Grasping a handful of grass and small twigs from the side road, he inched it towards the flame on his tail, which fired up immediately, cracking and hissing at the food it was being given. Instantly the warmth spread to me, and the welcoming light bathed every shadow that the evil night had hidden.

The heat wasn't the only thing reviving our veins. Hope, like a virus, had gripped each of us tightly with every wavering move the flame made. Smiling to each of us in the firelight, Joe gripped his tail like a torch, allowing the flames to dance along his fingers contently. Even under the heat, his tag stood fast, with no sign of melting. Gazing at the light shadowing his face, past the orange skin and reptile face, Josef, for the first time in his life, looked like an adult.

"Let's look for your brother, Joe." Jill said quietly. Judging by the tone in her voice, I could tell she had noticed this moment of maturity too.

Nodding, he resumed his loyal calls for his brother, letting him know that someone was searching, that someone cared.

A noisy shape hurtled in my direction on fluttering wings, snapping its beak shut hungrily. It lunged at me with greedy opened talons and would have left various scars along my back if I hadn't darted out of the way. Clumsily landing in the dirt, the Spearow turned to us, glaring at Jill and Joe uncertainly and took wing, shrieking into the night air.

"This isn't the scent! The rodent doesn't hold the taste of the sick!" It screeched into the night, leading half a dozen brethren with it.

"Farther, farther! Feast on the sick!" They chorused gleefully, reminding me of vultures that ate their prey still alive and struggling.

"Follow them!" Joe shouted hoarsely as he clawed his way out of the cloud of Spearow who carelessly slashed at his face with their talons. "They could be talking about Marc!"

Instantly, I felt a queasy pool sloshing in my stomach. Hovering beside the safety of Jill's bulk, disturbing images flashed behind my eyes.Marc was lying in the middle of a clearing, the Spearow hopping around him like sharks, steadily closing in on their prey. He uttered a horrible scream as they all charged, covering him with black feathers and hot, angry beaks. One of his hands broke desperately through the surface, stripped completely of its skin...

His cry and the scent of blood clouded my nose and eyes, and at first I thought that I was thinking so hard, I had smelled things. Then, I noticed that the Spearow were gathered above a hollow bush, screeching their awful cries of success. I saw one of them, the largest of the flock, returning to his followers, black blood coating his talons and beak. He carried the message to feast, and they all dove into the bush, clawing at one another for the first piece of warm, still fresh flesh.

"Stop!" Joe shouted, diving in after them, the green bush swallowing him whole. Too scared to move, I could hear the surprised squawks of the Spearow, and all six of them fluttered above the tree, watching intently with beady eyes. Jill began to step forward and I, not wanting to be the second course, followed her, my cheeks glittering with sparks.

When I looked in, I was relieved that Joe and the Spearow leader were blocking the still figure of Marc. The flame had lit up the inside of the bush completely, which was shy of any leaves or branches.

The leader was an impressively large bird with large glossy black feathers on his back, and bristling browns on his head. The red feathers on the tips of his wings looked like they had been dyed with the very blood of his prey and his talons lanced twice the length and thickness of the roosting birds he called his family.

"Move aside hatchling." The leader commanded of Joe, who held strong without flinching. Puffing out its chest, the Spearow continued calmly, his voice menacing. "Leave us to our meal, please. My flock is hungry and we have searched hard for this meat...Unless you're willing to be the replacement."

"This 'meat' is my brother and you can't eat him. He's still alive." Joe stated loudly so even the hulking lithe shapes of the raptors above him could hear. I was surprised at how well he could disguise his fear to birds that reached up to his neck.

"All the better!" An impatient female Spearow shrieked, which inspired other cries of agreement. "Now get away from it, or you'll fair no better." She tapped her claws against her perch, glaring at Joe as if he were the one they were about to feast on.

"I am the one who will decide that." The leader snapped, turning back to Joe. "But if he doesn't agree on our diet, then more food for us in the end. So, Charmander, do you agree?"

"No."

My world became a place where the flap of wings above you meant instant death, and you're back felt as if talons would claw it out if you stood still. Jill and I struggled to get to Joe, who was losing a fight with the female who had spoken earlier and the leader, but the five that remained were swooping over our heads, shouting curses and flashing their lethal weapons at us. They knew that without Jill, I would be easy kill, so three of them broke apart, diving at the empty space between her and I, the draft of wings sending me tumbling into the clutches of an elder Spearow. One talon gripped my shoulder, the other, my side and took flight.

I screamed out of fear only, ignoring the burning pains digging deep into my hip and shoulder. Looking down at Jill, I had just enough time to see her watching me past her attackers, eyes wide in terror. The way the Spearow was carrying me left me helpless. The arm and leg below me were being battered in the air currents, my limbs too weak to fight it off. If I tried to move my arm, I knew that if it didn't kill me trying to get a better hold, I'd fall to my death, even if it was probably only about seven feet above the ground. _Is this what mice go through when owls catch them?_ I thought of powerful beaks thrusting into my body when they finished me off. _Please god, send someone to help me…  
_  
"Carcass, that Pichu can still send a shock through you." The second unoccupied Spearow warned to my withering carrier, flapping wildly below us both. "At this age, you never know what that would do to you."

Carcass gave a wheezy old laugh, staggering in the air. "This tiny thing? Don't make me laugh." It was all I could do to keep from crying out when the old bird tightened his grip. "Here, we can share it now, if you like. They won't be needing us down there."

My mind was too smart to try and stop them; that would only make the small dribbling of blood climbing down my leg run faster. They drifted lower into the bush, facing each other with Carcass passing me shakily over to his companion, but not relenting his hold on my shoulder. All my body weight now pressured on my shoulder, I cried out as Carcass's claw dug deep into the muscle of my arm, shooting shafts of pain up to my fingertips.

I went from hot to bone chilling cold, and not just from the icy terror welling up inside me. The sounds of my friends fighting faded away. My Shadow Voice, which I had decided to call it for the falseness of something that sounded just like me, invaded, screaming orders. **_"Get angry! Build up your hate! Shock them for pities sake, its what your kind does best!"_** Like last time I was struck dumb about how something that sounded just like me could sound so evil. The prickly pain of my wounds forced me to obey though, and I found myself thinking of how unfair it was how we had gotten into this mess in the first place, and how these pokémon expected us to let them eat Marc without a fight, or die trying...

My energy was sucked dry, and the lingering coldness of SV was now gone. My entire body was steaming in white electricity too extreme for Carcass's heart to take. I could almost feel it stop beating, feel his old, angry spirit being torn away from his body. Something inside my shoulder snapped in half noisily, but I didn't think it was something of mine. My eyes felt heavy and the colors around me were dulled as if splattered with paint. Now loosening his grip, both dead Spearow and I fell limply, the sound of battle smothered in the shrieks of anguish from the Spearow that had seen Carcass's death.

"Murderer!"

"Killer!"

Their hateful words were nothing to me, received in myriad fragments of speech I couldn't understand.

When I recovered enough to see clearly, I was still hurtling to the ground, and braced for the wrenching feeling of my arms dislocating from the force. A black shadow clouded my eyes from view, and Carcass's companion hissed into my ear, full of fury. "I'm going to kill you for murdering a flock brother, you scrawny rat. I'm going to kill you slowly in front of your little friends and keep you alive long enough so you can watch us eat what is rightfully ours." He pushed me sideways with his leg so I crashed into the bottom of the bush, pinned down under the branches.

Just managing to turn over and face my enemy, I saw him rear back, snapping open his beak. I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the blinding red haze of a lingering death blow.

"Get away from her!" A low voice mottled in pain and sickness rumbled. The Spearow chirped quizzically, but it was cut short by a hideous cracking noise. I was too afraid to open my eyes, for I knew what I was going to see.

The Spearow was crumpled in front of me, his dead eyes gazing deep into mine. His neck was bent in a distorted way, and already the chillness was beginning to seize him. Looking up at the one who had killed him, I saw Marc, his own eyes unfocused and confused as if they were already dead, just waiting for the rest of the body to give up. Where the leader Spearow tore one of his sides open was bleeding profusely. His chest was swollen and purple and he swayed dangerously on his feet.

"Thanks." I squeaked in a small voice, trembling.

He smiled, grimacing from the pain. "No problem. Just... don't expect this to be a normal thing..." Then, his expression faded and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Giving a great shudder, he fell to the ground, every ragged rise of his chest threatening to be his last.

"Marc?" Despite my exhaustion, I crawled out from under the branches, ambling over to my friend's fallen side. "Marc, answer me. Please…"

All around me the Spearow had begun to disperse under their leader's orders. "We know defeat when we see it. Death is upon our family tonight," He turned his hooded gray eyes to Marc, his feathers astray. "And hopefully it will be upon theirs."

All in one motion, they flew away into the fathom of the dark, leaving us alone, wounded and bleeding in the flicker of Joe's firelight.


	8. The Promise

Last Week: _Jill, Jade, and Joe made it to Violet City without any problems. Marc, however, is an entirely different story. The three left the center and returned en route to Cherrygrove, hoping to find Marc before a flock of vulture diet Spearows did first. When they did find Marc, a fight comenced over who would claim him. Jade accidentally killed a__n elderly Spearow through voltage enduced heart failure, and was saved from quenching another one's thirst for revenge by Marc. Of course, even in his poisoned state, Marc didn't get away with it without snapping his neck. After the two deaths, the rest of the flock fled._

Currently Injured: Marc, suffering from a Weedle sting. All, suffering from various talon and beak wounds. Status for Jill, Joe and Jade is Stable, Marc is Near Death.

Author's Note: Not one of my most action packed chapters, especially comparing with chapter seven. The answer for where I learned how to write is the quiet comfort of my bedroom, a notepad, anda sharpened pencil. The best teacher in creative writingis practice, so work hard, reviewer.

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**Chapter Eight: The Promise**

"Jade! Are you okay?" Jill charged over to me with concern, one eye completely covered with the blood of a gash on her forehead. "I saw you being taken away by that Spearow…all I could think about was what must've gone through your mind…" Her voice broke, and tears were crawling down her face.

"I killed him."

"What?" She stopped crying and looked down to meet my unruly stare.

"I killed him! I shocked the Spearow that was carrying me and it- _he _died! I don't know why he did…he was an ancient old bird." Crying as freely as her, I ran up to my twin's leg, pushing away the vines that were meant to be an embrace. _You're suppose to use your arms for hugging._ I thought bitterly, bawling harder than ever.

"Jill, Jade, we need to get Marc to the center. Now." Joe said to us, bending over and lifting one of Marc's eyelids expectantly, getting nothing in response but an unconscious grayness of the pupil. He beckoned his fire close to Marc's eye, but it stayed the same wide size.

"Gimme a minute!" I yelled, sobbing. "I'm sure if you killed someone you wouldn't be too eager to travel either."

His noisy bounding was the only warning I had when he lifted me up by the scruff, diggin his claws deep into the skin. "We don't have a minute!" He shouted in my face, flecking my cheeks with spit.

Dropping his dazed friend like a rucksack, he dashed over to the bush, pulling it apart with his claws. Dragging the big bundle of thorns in his mouth, he threw it to the ground beside Marc, spitting out the remains of the plant. At first he hesitated in front of the lopsided oval of branches, then heaved himself onto it, flattening it out so it looked a lot like a hammock.

Grunting in pain, he shook the spikes off of his body, and then turned to us, looking for help. "I could use a hand getting Marc on this thing. Well? Hurry it up!" Panic was molding his current personality into an impatient child.

Lost for words, we hauled him onto the thorny bedding, glancing anxiously at the dribble of blood spattering among the branches. Now that my fear was subsiding, the pain in my shoulder exploded into consciousness, making the simple task of dragging Marc nearly impossible. Whenever my heart pulsed, a small amount pumped out, mixing with the trail of blood the other two were making.

I tried to count my strides to keep the mind busy, one step every second, but that soon became uneven, my feet stumbling on unseen obstructions. Even with the strength of Jill and Joe, the burden was frighteningly heavy, and it became harder to hear Marc's raspy breaths. The minutes melded together, allowing time to make no sense. Instead, I judged it by how much weaker I had become in comparison to the last time I questioned my strength. But what scared me the most was the fact that I couldn't feel the pain in my shoulder anymore, just a terrifying numbness. Whenever I tried to move it, it would twitch wildly out of place, the only clue it was moving a nauseating flapping banging against my side.

"Marc…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" Joe whispered, holding his brother's stiif, sweaty hand tightly. "We can't keep carrying you like this. Look at us…we'll hardly get there even without you."

I shivered, tugging at the bedding and the cold body inside closer to my uninjured shoulder. "Joe, we can't leave him." I slurred, the words stumbling over themselves worse then my legs.

"I know." He grumbled, struggling for a faster pace. "But I'm starting to think…even if we get to the center, it might be all for nothing. It won't be in time." Even as he spoke, Marc convulsed weakly in the bedding, panting and clawing at an unseen enemy.

"You know in those fantasy novels we read, how the main character's life changes so suddenly from a drag existence, to a hero, and won't be the same ever again when the story ends?" I didn't bother asking Jill, who only read books when she was forced to.

He nodded, scowling at the ground. "That sounds like us. Lets just hope we have an ending."

We were all silent after that, concentrating on making that one step, then the other, a repetitive cycle that seemed endless. And when we finally reached the city, it felt like a dream when I looked up at the glittering lights of the center, blinding my eyes. Already a nurse was shuffling out, beckoning us inside with a frightened glance at Marc she failed to hide. Turning to Jill and Joe, I smiled, shuddering in relief and fatigue.

After that it was a blur to me. Now that I knew Marc was in good hands I suddenly became aware of how badly I was bleeding. Everything seemed slow, pasted with a white hue. Dimly I felt the nurse (or was it a different one…) placing a single finger on my tiny wrist and lifting me up by the extra layer of skin behind my neck. "Thank you," I mumbled clumsily, shuddering from head to tail. "I was very tired…very tired…"

"Yes, yes dear. It's the blood loss that's making you tired. But you need to stay awake a little while longer for the nice nurse…" She spoke in a way that made me feel like a toddler. It only drew me deeper into sleep.

I was placed on a spongy bed, but was so close to slumber, bits of my developing dreams weaved in with reality. "Honey, can you move your arm?"

Shaking my head weakly, I leaned sideways, grinning at the thought of rest. A soft hand caught me, however, sitting me upright.

"No sweetie…I now you're tired but I need you awake so I can ask some questions. Okay?"

"Okay." I wasn't even sure if I had said it or thought it. She placed something cold and wet on my shoulder that made the injury burn, so I drew back, my eyes still half closed.

"Its only water and disinfectant. It makes all the bad things go away so you don't get sick." Slowly, she rubbed it into my shoulder again, talking in a soothing voice. "How old are you? You're such a brave little Pichu for a young age."

"I'm thirteen."

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing... why do I need to stay awake? You could do this while I'm sleeping." I asked, not really listening, but saying my jumbled thoughts out loud.

"That's big girl nurse talk. You won't understand it unless you're like me. So, first question: did you _see _your friend get stung by a Weedle?" She paused, and stroked over a part in my wound, and I knew something was wrong.

"…You say you were carried away by a Spearow? A big birdie with big claws? And that you can't move your arm?" She had completely forgotten my awaited answer, which was no.

"Yep..."

"Have a transfusion ready." I heard her mutter to an unknown person behind her. With only a sympathetic sigh as warning, she dug a gloved hand into my wound, gripping the thing she had felt and ripped it out.

Blood poured out and seeped into the fur and bed, sending chills up my spine. Red-hot daggers stabbed at my eyes, leaving, thankfully, nothing but unconsciousness, the pain stale. Someone who sounded very young was screaming with a wail of pain, but I had already given myself up to sleep before I found out who it was. I hopd they weren't _too_ worried about me.

ooOOoo

Earlier, when they had first arrived to the center, Joe and Jill saw one of the many bustling nurses taking Jade away. He started to object, when one of the other nurses steered them away to a waiting room with other wild pokémon awaiting shelter, forced to leave Marc behind.

"Tell me everything that happened." The Chansey demanded, seating them on a hard, wood chair.

"Not until you tell us where you took Jade." Jill replied angrily, snapping her eyes into small slits. "And is Marc going to be okay?"

"The Pichu is being questioned somewhere else while she gets treatment for her shoulder. And as for the Totodile, that all depends on what type of poison we're dealing with here. I need you to tell me the size of the Weedle, how big its horns were, and which one it used to inject the venom and where."

They blinked stupidly, overwhelmed by the string of questions. "Umm, it hit him in the chest, it was maybe six inches long, I'm not sure which stinger and, oh! I have the stingers right here." Joe said slowly. Carefully, he took them out, dropping them in the nurse's outstretched hand.

"Wouldn't you have noticed the great purple welt on his chest? You claim he was stung a long while before nightfall." She snapped, eyeing the horns before passing them on to one of the passing colleagues.

"Well, there was an injury already there. I noticed that it was getting bigger but I thought it was just the bruise. Besides, when he got stung I don't think any of us saw it. He was in tall grass." Jill said, feeling like her middle school teacher was scolding her unfairly.

Displeased with the answers, she led them to another room where they could clean their scratches and departed with an irritated air. From inside, they could hear the howling of hurt pokémon all chorused into one eerie moan in the other room beside them. When they listened close enough, they could hear the frantic commands of the doctors and nurses in the ER, the screeching of a pokémon not yet blessed with unconsciousness.

"This is the worse room you could be in." Came a silky voice from one corner. "You can hear the victims of our gym leader as if you were right there."

"What?" Joe asked looking over to what was a smaller, kind looking Chansey. Unlike the other nurses in the center, she didn't have stress tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Those pokémon you hear are because of Falkner. He doesn't care about what happens to them after the battle as long as his father's name stays strong with pride." She said sadly, placing a hand on the wall closest to her. "That's why our nurses are so angry all the time. Soon, when I become a full nurse, I'll be like them too."

"I'm sorry. Falkner's your gym leader isn't he?" Joe said, amazed that these once thought to be fictional characters were as true in this universe as any person in their own.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Jill asked.

"Oh but where are my manners? I'm Omri." Omri grinned, gazing at them both with grateful eyes. "And about the help, that would be possible only if you can talk some sense into that fool of a human. Which I'm sure you couldn't. Even if we could speak his tongue, I doubt he'd listen."

"Has he ever lost a match?" Joe asked her, sympathy for their city hovering in his gut.

"Not since his father died a few months ago, no. He was determined not to let him down at first, but that vow's turned into an ugly addiction to prove to everyone that he's the strongest trainer in this area. He keeps his gym open most of the night, only sleeping for a few hours a day if he's up for it." Omri explained to both of them, worry in her eyes. "He was a wonderful human before, but you can sense that he's changed for the worse."

"That can't be healthy." Jill added, biting her lower lip.

She shook her head in agreement. "Falkner's been withering lately… he's even known to skip a meal or two just for one more battle and has too much pride to see a doctor. He really needs one, too."

"A therapist is more like it." Joe said with dry humor. "You know, I bet if he lost just one battle, he wouldn't act like this."

"I wouldn't attempt it any time soon if you two are willing to try and beat him." She warned with a stern mother note.

"We have electricity on our side." Jill pointed out politely, their developing idea becoming a reality.

Omri looked visibly excited, only able to contain her joy withthe smallest thread of doubt. "I wish you all the best of luck. I beg you, the next time you come back to this building, it's to show me your badge."

"We will. I promise."

There was a quiet rap on the opened door, the same nurse who had questioned them earlier standing one foot inside the room. "We've stabilized your friend. He's going to be okay." She said, although I could tell from the look on her face she had yet to say that to anyone else. "You can see him if you want."

Without another word, they ran past both nurses to where she had pointed. Gently opening the door, the stench of sickness wafted up to meet them. All around them they could see resting pokémon in small beds, some crying and gripping a part of their body with agony. Among them was Marc and, to their surprise, Jade who was sleeping peacefully with a blood-ridden bandage pressed into her shoulder. Marc was awake, staring up at the ceiling and gripping the covers beside him as if his soul threatened to leave his body if he relented his vice grip. Numerous items that looked a lot like sharp disks were embedded deep into his wrists, neck, chest, and ankles, attached by wires that hooked up to a small machine behind his bed. The swelling on his chest had gone down plenty and his eyes no longer looked ready to hold a death glaze.

"Marc!" They both cried, leaping over to him and laughing with relief. He looked over to them weakly, his face still pale and snarling in pain. Frowning, Jill bent over one of the disks. "What are these for?"

"They say it purifies my blood." He croaked and then smiled. "But I think they're just trying to kill me. Even if I don't look it, they say I'll be able to get up normally in the morning when they take these things out."

"Marc, I'm so glad you're okay." Joe said softly, his voice choked. "Do you remember any of it?"

"Not really. I remember crawling into a bush, and a bird flew at me… then I was fully awake for a while." He grimaced, looking towards Jade's bed. "I saw her kill that old Spearow. And she was so scared when I came over and killed that other one for her. I wonder why... I don't think you two know why she's in here, do you?"

"Of course. She was picked up by a Spearow and need her shoulder fixed." Joe said confidently, now nervous.

Marc shook his head, his face grim. "One of the Spearow's talon broke off in her arm. They pulled it out, but she lost a lot of blood. She's going to be very tired tomorrow, they said. Worse off then I'll be."

"I had no idea…" Jill trailed off, obviously recollecting the memories of the fight. "I did hear something snap from deeper in the bush, but I thought it was some branches."

"Where were you all this time?" Marc said suddenly, changing the subject with his tone of voice. By the look on his face and the struggle in his words, it was clear he was fighting off a spasm of pain. "I woke up twenty minutes ago and half expected you two to come barreling in here."

"We're sorry Marc. They were questioning us about the Weedle that stung you." Jill's sentence was interrupted by an enraged snarl. "And one of the nurses told us something unsettling…"

"The gym leader here's gone nuts." Joe stated flatly, crossing his arms.

Marc grinned, eyeing his brother carefully. "No kidding? I really couldn't tell what with all the fighting and grass types screaming in my ears. So what if he's nuts? It isn't like we'll be here anytime soon."

"But what about the locals? Knowing them, they won't have the sense to stop until one of their pokémon gets really hurt."

He shrugged, shifting his position on the bed and closing his eyes. "It's not my problem. Tomorrow, we're leaving Violet City. Without the badge."


	9. The Test

Last Week... _After a long, and agonizing (literally) trip through the dark, Joe, Jill, and Jade managed to get Marc to the center in time. Because of her injury, Jade was taken into a different room to be questioned, and at the same time get her shoulder wound looked at. While the two were being treated, Jill and Joe befriend a nurse in-training, only to learn that Violet City's proud gym leader was nothing they had anticipated..._

Currently injured: All, suffering from a spearow attack during the night. Marc, suffering from old weedle sting. Status is Mild Discomfort and Speedily Recovering, respectively.

Author's note: Getting nervous now... my progress has been slowing lately, and only four more weeks until I have nothing to submit. -to self- Better get cracking, coldfire!

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**Chapter Nine: The Test **

_I knew I was human. I could feel the power I had lost pulsing in my long, slender limbs, my five fingers, and fully developed spine. My hair brushed against the clothes on my back, and I felt chilled, not used to lacking a coat of fur. I looked out into the blanket of darkness before me, the sheer cold burning my lungs whenever I inhaled. Looking down at the ground, I found myself standing on black marble tiles, the coldness bleeding through my feet. Up ahead, two twinkling lights lured me forward, gripping tightly around my shins with a bitter ice worse then the air itself. Although I would have normally felt fear, there was only a burning curiosity that I always felt whenever I knew I was dreaming. When face to face with the lights, I could vaguely distinguish them as bright green eyes brimmed with sadness and sympathy. "Forgive me." It said simply with a voice proving it was younger than even Josef, the eyes diverted at something I couldn't see. _

"You don't have anything to be forgiven for." I responded with a metallic, dream voice.

"Oh but I do. I broke one of the rules of nature; I looked beyond fate." It corrected, eyes flaming with self-loathing.

"It hasn't anything to do with me. Why am I dreaming about you?" The dream was skittering away as I admitted the falseness aloud and gripped to it desperately.

"It has much to do with you. No, don't wake up just yet." It said, blowing a fragrance in my face so my awakening body calmed. "There is much I need to show you."

"What do you mean?" The words were torn from my mouth and lost in the dark abyss around me, unheard.

Very slowly, a shimmering image swirled into focus, sweeping away the shadows. There was no sign of the creature I was talking too, but soon the scene had my complete attention.

I saw five pokémon and a human boy lying on the ground far off, crumpled in a way that told me he was either dead or dying. Four were clustered in a small group, made up of a Charmeleon, a Pikachu, a Totodile, and a Bayleaf, cowering in fear before the last fifth pokémon. A Feraligator, blue scaled and twice the size in bulk of any professional wrestler leaned over the fallen human hungrily, its claws coated with an appalling scarlet. One of the three behind them, the Pikachu, fell to its knees, its pleading sobs inaudible as well as any other noises going on in the scene. There was a flash of red movement among the four andthe Charmeleon bravely charged at the hulking reptile, smoke spurting from its nostrils. The Feraligator swerved on it, swinging its claws down heavily on the foe. Before its claws met, a flash of white shattered the vision into unreadable little pieces. The noises, the darkness, the eyes all came into sight at once. The vision was gone.

"I'm sorry," said the creature, lowering its gaze. "I can't allow you to see any further into the future."

"The future?" I choked, cotton gathering in my throat. "But…the Pikachu, the Bayleaf…"

"That was you and your friends. Since I can't tell you what you don't know yet, the identity of the human will remain a secret." It explained quietly. For several long minutes, the creature was a silent, eyes stock-still and widening. "Listen carefully, you don't have much time left. You need to find the answer to this riddle, which will lead you to the four keys to get your bodies back. Be sure to remember this, I won't be back anytime soon. 'The gentle whisper of a mother that soothes the land to sleep. A place where great colonies are born, and everyone is a brother. One shy of difference, land of beige rolling mounds. When the sky's blanket is the Earth's, sending shafts of chills.'"

"And we're supposed to decode that? Can't you just tell me straight out what it is?" I asked.

"To tell you would break another law of nature: Do not alter fate," It replied mysteriously. "…but I can take you as far into the past as you like. Without disobeying any rules."

"That would take too long. Please, just tell me why this happened to us. Why not someone else?"

Pain glittered in the eyes, but soon the darkness gave way to shifting shadows. Many curious eyes clustered around a single shimmering orb, murmuring in voices that I could actually hear.

"See how easy it is to change their climate? To use the simple items they invent for our visionary uses? They will not survive the next millennia."

"These beings...are they human?"

In wordless shock, I watched the past replay before my eyes, so many questions then answered when claws slashed through the orb. Their hate…it was so understandable after what happened to them. I could even feel it growing in my chest before I knew why, my emotions dashing ahead of my thoughts. But why punish us? It wasn't only our fault they became this way, it was-

"You!" I yelled, turning to the pair of eyes now backed safely away. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here right now! Get the hell out of my dream and never, ever come back! It was so clever of you to turn me into a weak human…"

The pokémon tried to explain, eyes widened in fear, but I cut it off, reaching out at where I thought was its neck. "Give us back our bodies!"

"I can't!" It wailed, flinching and hurling a plume of flame square into my chest. "I can't!"

I yelped as the heat seared through my clothes, burning the tips of my hair. Its acrid scent, mixed with smoke was overpowering me, seizing my mind from the dream. My lungs were tight, withering from the dirty smog. Marc's frantic screaming blended in with the mysterious legendaries'.

"I can't! I can't get out!" He cried tugging fiercely at the discs still stuck in his ankles and wrists.

All around us heat and smoke throbbed in nauseating waves, flame crackling painfully in my ears. A small piece of burning timber had fallen on my chest, eating deep into my fur until it reached skin. Brushing it off quickly, I sobbed inwardly at the sight before me. About two or three pokémon, like Marc, were unable to leave their beds, abandoned when the fire had become too fierce to come back in and bring them outside.

The fire's guttural roar bellowed in my face as if to command me to stay and feed the flames. Gritting my teeth, I staggered out of my bed towards Marc dizzily, still attacking the blood cleanser. At once, the other pokémon shrieked their pleas for freedom.

"You can't leave me!"

"Help me, you worthless runt!"

"I don't want to die!"

"I'm sorry!" I screamed hoarsely with my eyes closed, gripping the things on Marc's wrist and ankles and tugging him free. Tears, if they hadn't dissolved the second they appeared, would have been streaming down my face.

Nodding his curt thanks, Marc spent an agonizingly long time watching the suffering creatures with a cold stare, until the smoke lowered close to his snout. Creeping on all fours, we limped to the entrance, which was teetering dangerously on its side. I could still here them gagging on the smoke, one by one steadily being silenced when we burst through the melting hatch doors, fresh air cleansing my lungs, but strengthening the fire.

"There's two of them over there! Don't let them get away." A voice from far away yelled.

It was still dark outside, leaving the crowd of humans and pokémon as mere slender, dancing shadows. The fire's roar was dulled now that we were beyond the four walls, so that I could hear the shrill noise of a fire alarm, as useful as it was, still ringing strong and the low frightened murmur with mixed languages of pokémon and human.

"Come on now, don't be scared…" From both our sides, misshapen humans were ambling over to us with greedy hands. I knew they looked different because of the gear they had on, but Marc lashed out with his immensely powerful teeth, sinking them past the smoke stained rubber and into flesh. Despite his bite, the man stood fast, gripping behind Marc's neck and pulling him off.

Impressed, I allowed the other man to pick me up without trouble, feeling oddly drained and weak. "Do you see their tags?" He asked his partner, voice muffled underneath his mask.

Lifting his own mask off, the other lifted up his prize, revealing the small loop on Marc's tail. The blood on my friend's face ran from view to leave it a bluish white, and I could imagine that I looked the same. _Please, not back to the lab…  
_  
"We got a call earlier about a vicious totodile. I don't have much doubt that this is the one." He glared at the snapping of teeth and slashing claws heatedly, a small smirk on his face.

"Marc, calm down. I have an idea…"

Gazing back at him with all the anger he could muster, Marc ignored me, clawing at the hand held behind his neck. "Get your filthy hands of me, you son of a-

I began to cough rapidly, falsely of course, since I had inhaled very little of the smoke. When I stopped, I gave a rattled squeak, going limp on the man's glove. In the dark, I could hear Marc catching on, wheezing partially for real, which made my plan all the better. A bare finger pushed into my chest, detecting the unsteady rhythm of my shallow breathing.

"Get two oxygen masks," said one of them, placing us both on the ground beside each other.

Daring to open my eyes a tiny slit, I saw Marc whispering the cue to run on the count of three. Above me, the men bent over us, ready to put on the masks. "Three!"

Flipping onto my back, I raced under their legs, diving past the countless other pairs with Marc gaining speed ahead of my slothful sprints. We were both aiming for the bushes far from the crowd, expecting any second for the pain of a dart in our backs.

"Attack!" Hissed a human voice from inside.

We were only a foot in front of the bush when the center of it burst into flames, engulfing Marc completely with fire. The embers disappeared as soon as they came in contact with his fireproof body, leaving only a painful sting and redness of blue scales for him to remember the attack by. From inside the gaping hole, I saw a look of triumph and unfinished revenge all rolled into one.

"Hello Blaze. I see you've learned a new attack." Marc growled, brushing a piece of chard branch off his arm.

"Just recently learned from the strictest teacher in Jhoto." He replied, a small glint of pride in his eyes. Jerking his head towards the burning building, he smiled a grin worse than any I had ever seen in even Marc. "And I just aced my first test."

"You did this? I'm surprised, I truly am. It was less then a day ago you were a pathetic hatchling not fit for battles. Now you actually seem like a bit of a challenge." Marc retorted, narrowing his eyes.

"Under Adrian's command, of course. Speaking of which, we'd like to leave now. Too many police for our liking, you know?" He turned around, and then looked over his shoulder to us both smirking. "See you at the cave." With knowledge we obviously didn't have, he bounded off, leaving us both to ponder the clue he had given us.

"What cave?" Marc snapped, echoing my thoughts. "I'm not going to that cave outside Violet City, that's for sure."

I nodded, noticing for the first time how tired he looked. His eyes were bloodshot from the smoke, parts of his tail and tag had been singed, and small paths of blood were traveling down his hands where his blood cleanser once was. The welt on his chest had shrunken to normal size, but you could still see its threatening dark purple from outside. Following my eyes, he shoved me out of the way roughly to get into the crowd, not used to his signs of weakness being so easily shown. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah you will, but what about the others? What about the pokémon still inside the building?" I swallowed, already knowing that they were dead. "That nurse said earlier when you were lost that pokémon check in all night in need of rooms. There aren't any anymore."

"Too bad for them." Marc said over his shoulder casually, the look on his face suspecting he had more to tell. "Hey look. I think I can see Jill and Joe…"

Glancing in his pointed finger's direction, I was surprised that he wasn't lying for once. Joe's unmistakable firelight was giving them a clean giveaway for us to spot them. Jill caught sight of us and muttered into Joe's ear, who then turned to face us, waving. What I saw behind them made my blood run cold.

Two firemen, with their own wartortle to back them up, seized the unexpected prisoners, pointing out the other one's tag. Jill and Joe looked utterly confused, too intimidated, especially Josef, by the pokémon bodyguards to try and escape. When one of the men saw us, he said something into a radio, which Jill had overheard. Her face twisted from an expression of puzzlement, to absolute horror.

"Run!" She screeched a moment too late.

A foul-smelling bag draped over us both, and, judging by the deep scars it bared, I already knew it was a hopeless attempt of ripping it open. Marc thrashed about in the small area, regardless of the painful nips and scratches he was inflicting upon me. Our world turned upside down when the bag was lifted up, calming my friend down, to my relief.

We rocked back and forth for a few steps in silence, the blood rushing to our heads. When he opened up the bag and dropped us each into cages that reminded me of pet carriers, Marc charged at his lock almost at once, biting at it in vain. "Don't let these four out of your sight. They were the four tagged hatchlings that belong to Cherrygrove, very valuable." He commanded his pokémon, and then ran back to the burning building.

"Good lord, let them go! Don't take them back to the lab. They promised to help with our gym leader!" Shrieked the sharp voice of a much calmer looking nurse I was unfamiliar with.

Jill and Joe chorused a sigh of gratitude at the same time, the tiny orange fingers curled around Joe's metal bars now relaxed.

"Our humans ordered us to keep watch of these four, and that's exactly what we're going to do," said one of the wartortles stubbornly.

"Even to help the well being of the pokémon in this city? To make up for the ones you didn't save?" Omri's reply made my stomach coil with watery guilt.

"Umm, well…" He stammered, looking at his companions for assistance. "If you have a problem, you can tell that to our humans."

"If you have an idea as to how, I'd like to know." She countered, her eyes glittering. "And while you're at it, tell me why these four deserve to be locked away. As far as I'm concerned, they only promised to help the center out."

Without a moment's hesitation, she reached for Joe's cage, ready to unlock it, when one of the wartortles stepped in front of her, flashing his teeth. She hardly glanced at it him, nonchalantly opening the door. "You know you're not permitted to attack a nurse. Doing that would actually be a good reason to lock you in a cage."

That seemed to be a good enough excuse, because he let her pass, as if moving out of the way in the approval would give him the authority he had lost. He gave his partners stern looks and they nodded grimly, keeping watch for their humans to barge in and scolded them at any time.

When I stepped out of that cage, my heart stopped pounding in my ears. Never in my life was I so happy to see a complete stranger. "Thanks." I said to her as I walked past, unsure if what she was saying had been true.

She bent over so our faces met and she smiled warmly. "Oh your welcome sweetie pie." One more time, and it wouldn't be the last, I was being judged in age by my size and voice that sounded like it was coming from a six year old version of myself.

Forcing an innocent smile, I turned my back on her to Jill. Very quietly so Omri wouldn't hear, I asked, "Who is this nurse? What's she talking about? Gym leader?"

"We'll explain later." Jill said, hardly moving her lips.

"Omri, we can't stay in the open with these tags on. And look at Marc, he still doesn't look so good…" Joe stopped when she gave him a stare similar to all the other nurses, stressed and hopeless.

"He'll be fine, but please, please go to Falkner as soon as you can. Even with this tragedy, he still won't stop battling. Until then," She sighed, shuffling her way into the crowd to tend to her not-yet-official duty.

I looked up at the three, clueless, when I noticed that Joe and Jill were giving Marc dangerous looks. "What's this all about?" I asked, side stepping out of the way for a human nurse.

"The gym leader is addicted to battling the trainers around here. We were hoping to knock some sense into him and get him to stop, but our own leader doesn't think we should waste the time." Jill glowered, her eyes still pinned deep into Marcs.

"Since when did we listen to you?" I turned my attention to the stubborn child, his green eyes burning.

"Since the second we hatched into this nightmare." He lumbered in front of me so I had to strain my neck to look him in the eye, not that I wanted to. "Unless you have a problem with that."

"What are you gonna do, attack your own friend? My twin?" Jill took step forward, vines extended into hostile tendrils.

"Why not? She did it to me." He replied, not tearing his gaze away from my insignificant body.

"That's right, I did. Just try and lay a claw on me Marc, and maybe this time it won't be so much of an accident." I said boldly, distrust of him swallowing the fond memories with my old friend in shadows. Wrinkling my nose, I noticed that awful smell radiating from him again. His anger.

"C'mon guys, quit it." Joe said, reverted back to his old, quiet self now that Marc, unfortunately, showed signs of full recovery. "Marc, I'm asking you as a brother, let us go beat Falkner. I'm sure that if you're with us, everyone will forget that little battle with you and the weedle."

"Except the weedle." Jill couldn't help whispering in my ear. I nodded in agreement.

"Will you stop bugging me about it if I say yes?" Marc asked irritatingly, crossing his arms.

We nodded, and he turned his back on us, hobbling into the crowd. When I was sure he was out of earshot, I slowly explained the dream I had from then second I woke up. Jill had a skeptical look on her face (and I didn't blame her) but Joe was studying me over like I was some type of priceless jewelry.

"That was no dream. Or if it was, you hurt yourself more than any of us thought." He muttered, conveniently a vision specialist when I decided to have one.

"Then tell us O vision seeker, what does the riddle mean?" Jill remarked to him with a grin.

"Haven't got a clue."

"Then let's not waste time trying to crack riddles we aren't even sure are real or not." Marc concluded out of nowhere from behind a pair of legs, peering into the dark roads of the city. Apparently, he had heard the whole thing. "Now, where's this gym that seems to be so important to you three?"

Heaving a yawn, Joe sat himself onto the ground, hiding his tag from view. "We should find it in the morning. It wouldn't do us any good challenging him half asleep."

Seating myself beside Jill, I watched the rest of the pokémon center residents begin to settle down into the ground with a grimace. I noted with a hint of annoyance that the humans were given scavenged beds before the hurt pokémon that actually needed them._ Humans…just because they're bigger and smarter, doesn't mean they can treat us second-best. _I feel asleep forgetting that I was once one of them myself.  
_  
The gentle whisper of a mother that soothes the land to sleep…_

The sun beat down hard on us that morning, and the air had an unpleasant dampness to it when you breathed. We were standing in front of the gym's entrance, feeling very insignificant and weak under its invisible stare. The shadows of the building splashed in a slant to our right, reaching out to block the sun from the yellowing grass. Since little things made little noise, we hammered against the door at the same time, jarring noisily out of chorus. Something from inside opened the entryway, flashing a thin line of gray shadow outside only to be evaporated by the sun.

We stepped inside the building gingerly, the floor of the gym littered with painful shards of shattered rock. From the semi-darkness, came a young male's voice. "Please close it behind them, boys. You know how the sun's been hurting my eyes lately."

I stiffened up as the doors slammed shut behind me, inches away from crushing my black, stubby tail. A second before complete darkness enveloped my vision, artificial lights streamed on from the ceiling, revealing the surroundings of what I had to adapt to if I fought.

The entire border that hugged the walls was either boulders, or crushed remains of it. I knew that Falkner only raised bird pokémon, so what could be powerful enough to crack stone?

"Welcome. It's been a while since wild pokémon dared set foot in here." For a crazed battler famous for such strength against starting trainers, I was surprised at how weakened Falkner looked. He was pale and his once long, blue green hair was faded and messy. His eyes were dulled from lack of sleep, his arms bony and thin. His posture was hunged over in a way that made him look both ridiculous and oddly wise. Joe and Jill didn't blame Omri for being just as worried for Falkner as the pokémon he battled. This just wasn't healthy.

"Well?" He asked edgily in a scratchy tone, his dark eyes sparkling at the thought of another challenge. "Will you be battling me or not?"


	10. The Zephyr

Last Week... _During the night, one of the legendaries pays Jade a visit in her dream. It showed her a disturbing image from both the past and the future, plus a riddle that told them how to get back their bodies . After viewing the past, Jade angrily realizes that it was this stranger that caused her...species issue in the first place. However, before the dream can go on, it is interupted by a fire started by Blaze. After spending the rest of the night outside, they all head for Falkner's gym._

Currently Injured: Nothing worth mentioning

Author's Note: Hmm... nothing to say, really. I redid chapter three so there is a time stretch in it. This chapter is one big fight scene, so you don't need to complain that it's too long in the reviews. I'm well aware of it.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: The Zephyr**

"It's a Two-on-Two battle. The last pokémon standing wins. If any of you try to interfere the battle while the other's foe is still going strong, that is an automatic forfeit. It won't matter if you defeat my pokémon or not; you get no badge." Falkner explained dully, unclipping one of his pokémon. "But by all means go ahead and try."

Jill was determined to go first when we asked, but the look on her face now said otherwise. Her face was sheet white, her legs tense and ready for use if needed. No doubt she was reliving the sight of all the other pokémon at the center, broken and crying. Fear had slunk in without her notice until it was too late.

But was that the real reason? Looking closer, I noted that she wasn't looking up at Falkner from her place on the battlefield in fear, and every nervous pant she made sent up a cloud of mist, as if the room were freezing. I glanced at Joe and Marc, their arms crossed, but neither of them showed any signs of being cold.

"Jill, are you sure you want to do this?" I asked from the gym entrance.

It was that second of distraction when Jill shook herself and turned to reply that Falkner seized his opportunity, throwing the pokéball in the air. It shattered into flickering pieces of light in midair, then rejoined like a puzzle, as its captive was release. Fluttering clumsily, the bird was bathed in the allotted microscopic light, which solved one of the mysteries of why they glowed when appearing out of a pokéball. Still veiled in her illuminated sheen, she dove harshly at Jill, talons raised and bared like snake fangs.

She yelped in surprise, forced to the ground underneath a female Pidgey roughly the same size as her. Little fingerless hands useless, she turned her head to the ground so that her slashing wouldn't catch an unlucky eye. Two of the seeds dotting her neck bloomed into rough, green vines, whipping blindly at the flailing feathers. One vine managed to coil painfully around the pidgey's wing, where the shoulder connected to the body. At once she clacked her beak in anger, jabbing the other not-as-useful left vine.

"Blind it, Aer ((Air))," Falkner commanded calmly, swaying slightly on his feet.

Bending her wing, the pidgey scooped up a wingful of sand and hurled it into Jill's eyes, which made her released her grip on the foe. Taking flight, Aer circled above Jill menacingly, diving every now and then to remind the blinded Chikorita that the odds were against her. Chuckling, she hovered above her head, talons flexing.

"What's the matter? Can't you fight, grass type?" Jill heard her silky sneer, dive bombing to the side and swirling up dust.

"Not when I'm surrounded by sand, no!" Jill snarled darkly, squinting her teary eyes. The shattered stone and sand were starting to stick to her wounds, latching on in a way that made them grind deeper in if she moved.

Coughing weakly, Jill shot both vines up through the shade of dust in pure desperation, both binding around her soft feathers, stressing the hollow bones in a wing. Reeling the foe in by part of one wing and both talons, Jill began to see clearly, eyes running with cleansing tears. Aer flapped wildly to stay above ground, hurting her bond wing more than it would have if she cooperated and fallen.

"You have to let me win. Can't you see what's happening to your owner?" Jill said, pausing to regain her footing that was slowly sliding against the gym floor.

"Falkner is fine! We need to win; that's all that matters. We need to- Jill tugged down her vines sharply, sending the screeching Pidgey to the floor with a sickening pop of a wing bone. Writhing on her side, Aer clawed at her hurt wing, now dangling lower than normal.

"That's it Jill. Show Falkner what he's been doing to his opponents." I called to her, observing Falkner's twisted face of worry.

Aer managed to claw her way into a dignified stance, staring at my twin through spasms of pain. Her hurt wing didn't look like it was even part of her body anymore, just a pile of sagging bones trapped beneath skin and feathers. Head cocked to the side, she offered her throat as a sign of defeat.

Instead of leaving it at that and awaiting a new foe, an awful glaze came over Jill, something I never saw from her in my life. She was breathing slower now, puffs of fog still swirling up to the ceiling. Her eyes had a hidden hungry look to them, glinting under the hot lights from above.

Her tendrils dived at Aer with inhumane speed, twining mostly around her neck until she lay immobilized to the attack, legs twitching and slashing at the ground. She croaked for air, squirming in fruitless struggles while Jill grinned, eyes dancing with a sick humor.

I had half the mind to go out and stop her, but luckily, only half. The rules Falkner addressed to us were tearing me in two. To stay and hope for the best, or to interfere, which meant no badge. And something other than the need of the pokémon center was telling me that to do so would mean to fail more than just the battle. Much more was at stake here then I knew.

"Release her now!" The young leader boomed with a commanding voice, fists clenched.

Uncertain whether to obey, Jill removed her vines from Aer, still posed snakelike over her own shoulders. She shot him an icy glare unlike herself, growling in a low tone that even my new language couldn't distinguish as words. What was the matter with my sister?

Still gasping to catch breath she lost, Aer was recalled; leaping sparks spreading red blotches along her small frame. With a silent gasp, I recognized the angry crimson as the same one that consumed me for those last moments of being a human. Looking back, the horrible pain I was feeling in death had become a distant memory, etched in my mind like a photograph that gradually yellowed after a time. It wasn't anything physical, more like an unbearable tear at something inside that was deeper than flesh, beyond it. Closing my eyes, I wondered what torture the Pidgey was going through even if it wasn't showing it physically. I could almost hear her soul screaming inside her head for freedom of the pain of captivity: _Spare me! If you release me again, I beg you it be the last!_

"I hate to admit it, but I'm impressed. I forget the last time Aer lost to a grass type." Awakening from my daydream to find the owner of this deep voice, I plunged into a nightmare. Our final foe was hulking before Jill with the size and wingspan of an eagle; but twice as dangerous. The Pidgeyotto had the blue spirited eyes of a youth, but lacked the appearance of one. He had a gauntly look to him, his proud feathers disheveled and grimy talons torn from overuse. The colors of his feathers all melded together in a mix of dirt and pebbles, all from the grittiness of battles to form ugly shades of black and brown. One eye was completely useless, a line of featherless claw scars tracing over his beak, face, and then eye all the way down to the beginning of his neck. Whatever it was that gave him that had indeed won the battle.

Clattering his talons together on the stony floor, as I would have done with my fingers against a school desk, the Pidgeyotto eyed Jill carefully, observing her misty breath, her fiery eyes. "Ah, I see. Aer cannot beat an alter; even I struggle with them myself." He winked at his audience slyly, with much more to tell that he was giving. Switching his attention back at Jill, he lifted his forewing up to his chest, feathers spread out wide in a cultural greeting I wasn't familiar with. "If you can understand me, which I'm sure you couldn't in such a state, my name is Wynd ((Wind)). Your demise."

"Confident are we?" She reacted with the same evil grin plastered onto her face. "Well, I suppose you have a right to be. Even I can't beat you now, with or without the child's help."

Grinning smugly, he turned back to Falkner, meeting eyes with the human that had the most common with him than any pokémon. Both had been crippled, either emotionally or physically, and both had the sickness of this dark addiction. Falkner backed up a few steps to avoid getting caught in any attacks, and then nodded his permission.

Wynd made a single beat into the ground to get airborne, whipping Jill's already stinging eyes clean in the face with grains of sand. The malevolent cloud around her was long gone, wiped clean to leave her pure once again. Vines withdrawn, she gawked up at Wynd, who was now perched high on one of the black rafters of the ceiling. Then, he shifted out of sight for less than a second; dive bombing at her with his cracked beak snapping wildly. Jill ran helplessly to one side, only to get an aching cuff into her cheek from an outstretched wing. He was too fast and too large for her to dodge. Now just trying to prevent any serious damage, she clambered for the walls of the gym, aiming at a small crevice underneath one of the boulders. An explosion burst behind her head, raking red wounds along her back. Sliding, she lay stunned only a couple feet in front of the safe haven, head buzzing in drunken pain. Dragging herself forward, she could feel a small draft picking up, billowing the annoying bayleaf herb on her head in front of her face. She ignored it and continued on, only noticing how bad the wind was when she could no longer move. Sucked back to the center of the gym, a firm hand had her in its clutches in the form of a small cyclone no larger than a street lamppost. Shouting indistinct pleas, Jill was thrashed inside the mini-tornado, and then spit back out into one of the boulders. Precious breaths wheezed out through her teeth, consciousness flickering on and off like a dying light bulb. Bits of stone crumbled down to the ground, followed shortly after by the limp form of my sister.

"Just like old times. Which of you three has the stupidity to avenge her?" The Pidgeyotto screeched, eyeing me hungrily. "You, the little yellow smudge I can see at the Totodile's feet. How about you? Seem like an easy catch for me."

"Not on your life! I've been carried in the talons of a bird one time too many." I wanted to yell. And I would have if not for the icy fingers pursing my lips shut. The black mane of fur on my neck bristled out like quills, the body warmth inside withering under a frigid ice. Puffs of mist spiraled out of my nose, clouding my vision. **_"Why miss the opportunity? It would be a shame. You have the advantage you know…he would lose just like that Spearow. You remember, don't you Jade?"_** SV cackled, lifting the shrouded curtain from a memory I would very much have gladly forgotten. Carcass's scream shrieked inside my ears. My shoulder injury began to itch unpleasantly.

"I'll battle you." I choked to Wynd, eyes slammed shut. _Just stop bringing it back! I want to forget! _

**_"A wise choice."_**

The image faded to leave me standing in the place Jill had been when the battle first started, cowering beneath my species' natural predator. Before he had a chance to attack, I nimbly scampered for the same hole Jill was aiming for, much faster with my lightweight body. The dark swallowed me as I slipped under the hole, my back brushing against the ceiling. Even if Jill managed to get this far, she wouldn't have been able to fit inside. Shaking in the far back of my hiding place, I watched great talons and a beak thrusting in, scraping against the floor, then retreat with an angry squawk.

For a while, all I could hear was Wynd tapping against the rock I was within, whispering threats. Then, I heard nothing. It was worse than noise, because I wasn't sure whether Wynd found a passage in, or if he took flight, waiting for me to dash out and into his clutches. Cautiously creeping forward as much as I dared, I peered out. There was a neat pile of sand right at the entrance, giving me the impression that he was going to trap me inside. Then, a wing fell down in the rear, hurling sand into my eyes, nose and mouth. Jumping back, I sputtered shrilly, eyes burning with still more sand spraying at me from outside. The remaining dirt gathered on the wall behind, growing in size and making it harder to breath. It was forcing me to inch my way closer into the battlefield, helpless to stop it.

"Is it getting a little crowded in there?" Crowed the young bird as he swept a little bit more of sand at the stone face.

"Get outta there Jade!" Came a frantic call from Joe, obviously wishing he were the one battling Wynd instead of his friend.

In a flash, I was bursting through a thin sand wall that had begun to form, spewing a taste of Wynd's own sandy medicine in his face. He recovered in half the time I predicted, flying at me at an even faster rate. Back in the scene of last night, I felt my feet running on air instead of the ground, sharp pains digging into my back and phantom pains smarting on my side and shoulder. Rigid with fright, I turned to look up at Wynd in an expression of resentment and horror. I wanted to curse him, but it came out as a tiny squeak. _Don't shock him. Don't shock him…_ I told myself, already noting traces of heat pulsing from my cheeks.

Wynd might as well have spit in my face with the look he returned to me. He was irritated beyond reckoning, his eyes red and streaming. He wanted to be rid of me now with a blow he knew I wouldn't endure. Still clutching me in his talons, he reared into a circle, curving his wings expertly so they created a spinning vortex much larger then the one before. Little shards of stone shot into us, bouncing off the Pidgeyotto's thick feathers and burrowing into my fur with painful pinching jabs. It smelled like a cellar inside the twister, the dirty air cutting at my chest. I could feel Wynd's grip loosening from my back, ready to drop me into the swirling tornado. Horror stricken, I only stiffened up more, fear freezing me in place.

I hated being up so high. I belonged on the ground, where it was safe, where I could hide from things that would end up leaving me as helpless as I was now. At the mercy of something bigger than me. The floor seemed so far away from the ceiling, since I was about as high as the height of a tall pine tree, lurching in rolling beige hills I knew were only caused by my delirium.

Wynd cackled as he releases his grip on me, and I plummeted in like a stone. The wind howled in my ears, bending my limbs to its sheer will. I was wailing a tone that matched the storm itself, eyes barely able to shut from the force of such air currents. The air probed into my ears, nostrils, mouth, anything on my face that it could worm its way through. My sense of direction held no meaning in this new world, only the counter clockwise swirl, the queasiness in my stomach, and the sickening thought that at any moment I would be spit back out like chewing gum after the cyclone decided I lost my flavor. What would it be like slamming into one of those boulders… or out a window? I wouldn't have to worry about the glass; I was pretty sure most of it had broken off into the attack and then my fur coat. Whimpering, I lifted my head sluggishly to see a dark shape in the corner of my eye. Without hesitation I reached out and grasped it, yanked back to remain still while numerous grains of unknown fragments beat at my face. The thing I was holding was one of Wynd's ankles, feeling his great body being sucked into the same attack he had summoned. Still, for that second of halting his wing movements, the wind lowered drastically, the shards of stone falling back down to the ground below. Almost immediately after he lost his bond with the tornado, it had died.

"Luck saved you that time runt," said Wynd, beating his wings with a whooshing sound while staring down at his leg. "Now lets see how well that will last with you falling thirty feet down."

As a human I wouldn't be as concerned as I was then at the idea of falling the height of a telephone pole. Ironically, if I were a human I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. Ever.

In response I fastened my grip into his flaky skin, feeling the cold and clamminess of the unhealthy beneath my fingers. Locking his wings together, he jabbed at my face with his impaired beak, occasionally managing an agonizing slash with his free leg. The joy rush of free falling lasted only for so long. Clumps of fur were being ripped out by their roots, exposing skin to the cold whipping air. When Wynd could feel my grip loosening, he unfurled his wings to carry me back up to the ceiling, only a few feet below the bright glare of the lights. From up there I could hear it humming and spitting electrically, the unpleasant smell of smoke hinting that there had been a fire in the past.

"What are you trying to do?" I practically screamed at him, close to hysteria. "You're not supposed to kill opponents!"

"Says you. You are a wild pokémon, unclaimed ("but what about my tag..?" I thought) by anyone or anything. I can do as I please." Wynd said, clacking his beck noisily. "And I want to play with my food before I eat it."

"I'm tired of being someone else's meal! Why does everything happen to me? Is it because I'm so small! " I cried in a high voice, slamming a fist weakly into his ankle as I wobbled on the balance of two brave index and middle fingers. "This whole thing is just sick! You're going to eat something that can talk to you, that has feelings. She was once something that never even had to think about worries like these, kicking you aside like you're some useless trash blocking her path.

"…but not anymore. She made the mistake of letting someone older than her push her around." I gazed at the tattoo in my hand, angry tears sweltering down my cheeks. "And now she's paying for it big time."

Wynd at this point was just gaping at me with a look of confusion, skeptics, and a bit of fear. "I uh, uhh…"

The anger of my outburst still flooding in my ears, I let loose a wise remark I later kicked myself for saying. "Can't you talk right? At least I was born with more intelligence a bird could ever wish to obtain."

Screeching in anger, Wynd swerved onto his back, lashing the leg I was on up like a whip. My fingers kept a firm hold until I saw him reaching for me with his shattered beak, all of this happening with the speed of a blinking eye. Emitting a pitiful squeak, I was flung off breathtakingly hard into the ceiling, disturbing dust clouds and dimming some nearby lights. I dropped back down hard on the chipping black paint of a banister Wynd had taken roost on in his other battle with Jill. The grating clatter of talons slipping against metal proved that he had come up to join me.

"You're really getting on my nerves now." He said icily, creeping closer and closer. A single talon traced along my neck and chin, pulling it up so I was forced to look him in the eye. "The whole bit of you being able to toss me aside in the past- I find it hard to believe when you're the one at my claw-tip's mercy." Flicking it off painfully at the end of my chin, he pulled back his foot and grinned madly.

I turned away with a shuddery sigh, seeing, even from up so high, the concerned look I was getting from Joe. On the other side of the gym, Jill began to stir.

"You can't kill me. I have a tag." I said sullenly, knowing that I was just biding time.

"No one needs to know that."

"Then I'll fight you. I'll use my electricity."

"Are you sure you want to try that? Even I know that one measly shock would send you to your knees." Wynd smiled as much as a bird could, playing along with my game. "Unless of course it started to rain indoors."

Both of us looked over to the window, sunlight pouring inside only to be melded together with the lights on the ceiling. But what was that on the ceiling? Maybe a good leap away, something jutted out from the upper tiles. I smiled shakily, legs tensed. That, and many others of those objects I hadn't seen covering the upper level, was a sprinkler. Something that could make it rain indoors.

I reached out for the small gripper when I jumped, and at that same instant, heard the pang of Wynd's beak slam against the post. At first I thought I misjudged the distance of the sprinkler and me, but let out a triumphant yell when my hands curled around it. My joy was short lived.

"I think you need some smoke to turn that on. Too bad there isn't any!" Wynd called in amusement. "I'd come over there and pry you off, but watching you fall yourself seems like a much funnier choice."

_Either way I'm going to fall._ I thought over Wynd's chatter. Smoke isn't the only thing that can activate this thing.

I swung back and forth until I managed to press my feet against the ceiling like a performer. At this point Wynd was laughing cruelly, throwing horrid jokes about my kind that to me made no sense. Growling softly, I gathered a small amount of anger directed at Wynd, which wasn't very hard at all. A single white bolt zigzagged square into the Pidgeyotto's chest, knocking him into the air. When I was sure he was flying at me from under for revenge, I held my breath and pulled.

The tip popped off like a cork, and made a sound similar to that, before a spray of water engulfed Wynd and I. He bent his head down to avoid collision with the yellow blur that was too small to fight against such sudden pressure. I bounced off his back, out into the open where the water hadn't fallen yet. With it being more a reflex than skill, I lashed out my arm and gripped tightly around one of his wings. Some of his color began to show when it was finally clean, brown liquid pouring down his oiled feathers. This time, without me telling myself to, I began to amass my resentment.

_You hurt Jill. You thought you could make a meal of me when your master is the one you should be worried about. **"You allow that human to order you around"** when he doesn't even have the ability to take care of himself. **"You're a sad example of a Pidgeyotto"**, and you know it._

Part of Shadow Voice was inside my internal speech, but my thoughts were so black and ugly I didn't know the difference. At first, I felt cold from its presence, than a blistering heat from my face drowned it out. A yellow blast completely surrounded his twitching, screaming body, and I only heard a distant hum of exhaustion that wouldn't set in until the battle ended. Part of me felt appalled at what I did, part of it absolutely enjoyed it. **_"He deserves it all."_** Everything. Even more than this.

Wynd struggled to stay aloft in frenzied flaps of his mighty wings, but even my small weight was too much for him to bear after his shock treatment. My flailing opponent inhaled sharply, then began the thirty foot plunged to the ground. He closed up one wing, yellow lines still sparking from his body, and leaned to the side so I was the one staring into the floor's face. With his last ounce of strength, Wynd has shifted his position so I too was fated for the excruciating crash.

((Page sixty :D)) "Why do you want to kill me so badly?" I asked lividly, getting no answer from the unconscious bird. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Eyes ablaze, I bit down hard on his wing in uncontrollable fury, his bitter tasting blood dripping into my mouth. An odd throbbing noise and a red vapor left me biting into nothing, even his blood vanishing without a trace. Since Wynd had been recalled, it was official; we won our first gym battle.

This time there was no Spearow to break my fall from the crash, whatever the intentions of doing so. I knew I was going to fall and take up one more hospital bed waiting outside the smoldering center, but it didn't make it any less frightening.

"Guys!" Was all I could manage in a throaty yell.

I doubt they could even hear since terror had severed my voice. Time actually did begin to slow at one point and gave me a chance to look at the expression of my friends. Marc was in a pose where you knew he was interested and trying not to show it: arms crossed, facing straight ahead and giving lazy sideways glances at me when he heard me shout. Joe started moving to me for an impulsive dive, and a flare of hope bubbled in my chest. A flicker of movement I barely caught sight of swept his feet out from in front of him, forcing Joe to slide forward about a foot. To the left of me, Falkner seemed like the human shadow of Marc. Looking past the baggy eyes, lopsided stance, and shuddery sag of his shoulders, he was also secretly pondering what would happen to this bold and intelligent hatchling that managed to beat Wynd.

Seconds before impact, I was yanked backwards like a dog collar by my arms and waist, taking in a sharp gasp of pain from my hurt shoulder. Strong, slender vines grasped unyieldingly around my armpits, tuffs of short yellow fuzz sticking up like weeds on its borders. Legs dangling inches from the ground, I heard a weak voice, thankfully normal like it was before she attacked Aer. "'Guys'? You'd rather trust them to catch you than your dearest twin?"

"You seemed kinda busy. And cold."

She screwed her face up at me, half wishing she had just let me drop to the floor. "I'll tell you about it later, but right now you need to go get your badge. I'd hurry up before Falkner changes his mind."

I fell lightly on my feet as she released me, angrily turning my attention to the trainer nearly responsible for yet another deadly dance with death. Jill wasn't kidding when she said he might change his mind. He was ready to literally throw me out of his gym, if only his brittle bones had the strength and his muscles had the will. In Falkner's hand was Wynd's pokéball, the other outstretched to reveal the badge. The name escaped me since the last I'd heard of its name was a couple years ago. It was as big as my palm, shining a deep blue similar to the thin line of ocean you can see when you gaze at it from the low tide shore. The badge had the primitive shape of a pair of wings, each layer of feathers carefully carved to shocking accuracy.

"...I promised my father I would never lose." He said coldly, lowering himself slowly so I could take the crafted metal from his hand.

I hardly had the courage to look him in the eye, only to find that he wasn't there. Falkner was looking back on the last moments he had with his father, standing over the former gym leader's hospital bed. As fate had decided, the man cost himself his life doing what he loved the most: flying. It was a horrible accident involving his now destroyed glider hanging from a perch jutting out from the middle of a cliff bordering the city. Falkner's own glider was gathering dust because its partner had abruptly vanished.

_"Dad, why'd you have to mess up like that..?" His choking voice, although it was only months ago, sounded young, desperate, completely different from how it was now. _

_  
"I'd rather die flying then an old man in his sleep." His father managed a chuckle, shakily exhaling slowly at the stabbing pains shooting through his unrepairable back. "But the gym...what about the gym? You're too young to lead it."_

Whether he secretly wanted his son to accept, or his didn't have the energy to argue, Falkner never really understood. He remembered vowing to his father's fading body that he would be the best leader in the family history, better than even him in honor of his memory. And now that vow was shattered, when less that half a year had gone by since his father's death.

He flinched when I took the badge from him, making me regret I won.

"That's the Zephyr badge," He said softly with a defeated voice, standing up to full height without another word. "You can go now."

I met up with the gang at the exit in wordless shock, just as a gentle rapping came from outside of the gym.

"Falkner? I-I've brought some breakfast for you. Maybe you'd like to eat it for once?" The voice of a nurse spoke timidly. On a weekly basis, a nurse would visit him with a tray of food, hoping he would eat something and have a good excuse to observe his deteriorating health subtly. So far he had taken none of the food.

The door lurched open, sunlight curling inside and beating against our filthy faces. Falkner withdrew from it slightly, then relaxed, hand veiling the brightness from his eyes. We dodged the nurse's feet, who then stopped to marvel at the pokémon that left his gym able to walk properly. She saw the little metal piece shining in my sweaty hand, nearly dropping the cooling food with a noisy clatter.

"Those four, did they-"

"Yes, Rox they did beat me. Be careful with the sprinkler. Now, could you bring that plate of food over please? I'm a bit hungry after such a good fight." He replied, a small smile daring to show itself. "And, you know those therapy sessions with the doctor you mentioned a few weeks back?... "

The conversation was cut off as the door creaked shut firmly from behind us. Ignoring the pats on the back and congratulations to both Jill and me, I stared down at the badge. My thoughts, oddly enough, drifted to the dream.


	11. The Ruin's Message

Last Week:_ The center's smoldering cinders were all that was left after Blaze's arson crime. It was a great risk to do so without a hospital, but the four agreed to challenge a secretly grieve-stricken Falkner to a battle as a favor to the town, and its battle obsessive gym leader. Jill defeated her first opponent, a pidgey, with mild difficulty, despite the type disadvantage. Had Falkner not commanded release, Jill would have strangled her. Wynd, a vicious pidgeyotto, defeated her and nearly made a meal out of Jade, but in the end, lost to her electricity. Badge in hand, they left the gym, confident that Falkner would get back his full health in their absence._

Currently injured: Nothing worth mentioning

Author's Note: After three weeks of struggling, I've finally made it out of that huge writer's block hole I dug and fell _deep _into. This chapter isn't very exciting. More of an information chapter. But don't worry... twelve will be much better. I've noticed that my double spaces, which I normally use to show there is a scene change, don't show up in the final draft on fanfiction. From here on, scene changes will be marked. oo00oo's are used to show POV changes, but you must know that by now.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: The Ruin's Message**

The first thing I wanted to do was show the badge to Omri. She nearly crushed me in her powerful embrace after I told her of the battle (leaving out Jill's cold breath episode), telling me over and over how thankful she was to have met us. The nurse knew we'd be on our way after a meal and some rest, being 'hardy travelers' as she put it, and gave me a small badge pouch that I could clip to my fur. It was a beautiful, grass woven bag that her human partner made in her spare time. She explained that it would be able to hold all eight badges from this region, lips forming a small frown when I said we wouldn't be going to the other gyms anytime soon. Our goal was to get to the burned tower in Ecruteak, not to prance around trying to become some famous wild pokémon that helped emotionally disturbed humans. With these tags on, we were constantly at a threat of being recaptured and sent back to the lab.

"Jill, I need you to tell me what happened when you were battling Aer." I said quietly, so Joe and Marc couldn't hear over the murmer of a T.V nearby. We were in a hotel roomspecially made so a pokémon and its trainer could get seperate rooms. There was a small complication of not having the trainer room occupied, since the humans couldn't trust a pokémon unattended, but taken care of when Omri's partner explained.She strongly insisted she would pay for it until we were sure we should leave, the fancy food and tempting pokémon sized furniture making me suspect she never wanted us to go.

She looked up from her plate of food, untouched since she wouldn't stand so low as to eating it like some dog. I was curious to see how long this hunger strike would last. "Well, I battled her, beat her, and then lost miserably against Wynd. Anything else you'd like for me to tell you?"

"Yes," I hissed sharply through gritted teeth, too serious and tired to be battling her wise remarks so shortly after my previous one. "I need you to tell me if you heard a voice, or felt cold inside- anything!" I needed to know I wasn't insane.

Jill eyed me carefully, cocking her head to the side to make sure the boys were still engrossed in their T.V shows. "So I'm not crazy," She breathed, relief flooding through her.

"What? Do you hear the voices too?" I leaned forward on my palms over the table, one over-sized ear turned hungrily in her direction.

"It started when we saw that cyndaquill. You know, when Joe and Marc ganged up on him? I was going to join in when-

"It came, right?"

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "I thought it was over after that, because I didn't hear from her for a while." She paused, drawing in a breath and answering loud enough for Marc to turn in our direction curiously. "I was wrong."

"You call it a her." I noted, attempting to change the subject until she calmed down.

"Jade, she sounded _just _like me! Why wouldn't I wouldn't call it a her?" My twin almost wailed, beginning to shake. "And I got very cold. I tried to stop her, but it made me drowsy...and that pidgey was begging to be strangled. Couldn't you see Aer was offering her neck to me?

"But what was the scariest of all..." She continued, volume getting no lower than a dull shout. "When she took over I expected to be in control of my thoughts instead of my body, just to watch at what she did with it while silently begging her to stop. It was worse than that! I had my free will, but she had my throughts. I would never do that in real life, but she toyed with my mind. She made me _want _to throttle Aer. And I did."

"Jill..." I said sympathetically, pretending to understand. I really saw no difference about how her Shadow Voice worked. If it had control of her mind, wouldn't that mean it could control her body too? Trying not to look so puzzled, I leaned back in from my hunched over pose and resisted the urge to rub my temples.

She glared at me hotly, seeing right through the fakeness. "You wouldn't know; it never happened to you. I don't even know why I bothered to tell you."

"I'm you're twin sister. Your best friend. Who else would you tell besides me?" I said with a wounded expression.

Jill bent down and nibbled one of the brown pieces of food reluctantly. "I wouldn't tell Marc, that's for sure. He's the reason why Joe tripped back at the gym." She said casually, pushing her uneaten meal away from her. Standing up, she walked over and whispered in my ear. "And if what I think is true about the voices, Marc won't last very long in this place."

I was about to ask her what she thought was so special about them, when there was a small knock on our door, followed by a sullen faced Omri. "Can I get anything else for you?"

"Actually, we we're about ready to leave," stated Jill, brushing past her at the doorway. "And thanks for renting out this room for us Omri."

"It's the least I can do after your helping us. Will you be returning to Violet City anytime soon?" She asked hopefully.

"Unless we get carted back to the lab, then no, I doubt it. This might be the last time you'll ever see us." Joe said. He wanted to explain our species issues to her, even if she'd take us for an insane bunch of travelers and have an exuse to keep us here longer. Best if we left before the secret got out.

Her expression pursed into the motherly look she and all the other nurses were so famous for. "I don't need to be a professional nurse to know that Joe is the only one fit to traveling all the way to Azalea Town. And he isn't the strongest of your group."

It was true. Both statements. Marc and I were weakened from our injuries the previous night, and if you add on the stress from the battle no more than an hour before, Jill was as shaken up as I was tired.

"We really have to go now though. I don't know about those three, but I'm not up for another adventure through the dark." I gave the conversation a gentle push, edging against the side of the door in an attempt of freedom.

"Jade, can I speak with you alone for a minute?" Came her soft voice from beside me.

Marc's pace slowed to match mine as he also walked out of the door, lingering within earshot in hopes of catching what was so secret. A dark look from Omri sent him scuttling sheepishly outside the room, his brother following loyally from behind. She watched them for several moments down the hallway until she was sure they couldn't hear. There was no worrying about it when she was with the only one of the gang that had keen ears.

"I really don't like that friend of yours. His name was Marc, wasn't it Honey?" The nurse shuddered and turned to look me in the eye, just catching me wince at the childish name. "You see, that is what I wanted to talk to you about."

I looked at her dumbly, only partially acting with my face. "What do you mean? You're still talking about Marc, right?"

Omri lowered herself so she was as eye level with me as she could get without lying flat on the floor. "Jade, you four are the oddest bunch of pokémon I've ever seen. An electric, a grass, a fire, and a water type all traveling together in one group that hardly knows what they're doing can stand out like that. I understand that you're hatchlings but... by now in their stages of life you four would be moving your seperate ways with a basic idea of how to survive on your own. Not only that, but... you don't act like normal pokémon should. One of you can hardly walk right," I had no doubt in my mind she was talking about Joe. "And there was something else that I'd like to know about... last night in the ER, one of the nurses told me you said something quite odd. You told her you were thirteen years old. I'm certain it was just the delirium talking, but I'd like to know the truth. Thirteen is an awfully old age for someone your size, and species, even."

I swallowed down the throbbing of my heart, which was climbing it's way out of the chest cavity and into my throat. "Whatever I said last night doesn't concern you Omri. And I'm surprised that you'd be suspicious of wild pokémon befriending each other. Are we not allowed to have friends without anyone asking us dozens of questions in every town?" The tone I sent out was angry and nervous, like an animal slowly being backed into a corner by predators. "We're just a normal bunch of hu--pokémon. That you'll never be seeing or hearing of ever again." _Smooth, Jade. Now just walk away._

Slipping by the nurse, who looked like she had been bitten by an animal she thought she could trust, I followed my friends to the exit. I turned around one last time to wave at Omri, still standing in the doorway and watching me go. She caught sight of the tattoo and frowned.

-scene change-

You could tell you were in a paranormal place by the atmosphere swirling around your pelt. It was thick in the air when you moved, like humid water. Things you couldn't explain darted out of view when you could have sworn you saw them dancing in the corner of your eyes. Plus, if you listened hard enough, you could hear a small humming drone that was in perfect tune with the air. Every once and a while it would break off into an unknown noise. I didn't like this at all.

Large, deserted caves beckoned you forward with their hulking mouths, revealing a swollen, dank belly inside. There was only a lone shack perched neatly in one corner of the cave entrances, the shades drawn and door shut tight. No life stirred within. Farther off I could hear and smell the lapping of fresh water against stone. Other than that my nose was filled with the tangy aroma of pines that encircled the gully of caves. The sand underfoot was grainy soft and bare of any grass, flattened away with years of tourists and travelers passing through. Our alien prints were now mingled in with theirs.

"I don't like it here," Joe whined. He had been the one to see movement flickering in the corners of his eyes the most. You could tell when someone did when they swerved there head in one direction swiftly, shuffling closer into the group until the shock wore off that we were being watched. "What is this place?"

"Don't you even remember? This is the Ruins of Alph." The blank stares I recieved made me deeply interested in my four toes. I always forgot that I was the last of them all, even Josef, to outgrow the show. These names were vaguely familer to them when they played the games a few years back, mostly to Joe since he still played the newer versions under the false exuse 'I'm getting this for my little brother...' to a skeptical cashier.

Marc mumbled something the others didn't quite catch. When we all looked at him expectantly, he pointed a finger up at something behind us, reciting the words chipped in bold black letters. "Come see the puzzle chamber. These lucky people below have been the only ones to solve it and given a great prize," Underneath, not a single name could be seen etched into the rotting wood. Someone had yet to solve the puzzle, whatever it was. "I want to go."

_Not a single please?_ I thought as we followed the sign's big red arrow indicating that the nearest cave was the puzzle chamber. "You're not going to do it for the prize are you? You actually think someone's going to be sitting there waiting for the 'lucky person' to solve it?"

"What do you take me for?" He pivoted on his left foot so I bumped into the other's ankle and shin. "I just want the glory of solving it first. And _you're _going to help me."

"But of course, O great leader," I curtsied and bowed to my wounded superior's leg. "It isn't like I have a choice in the matter."

"No, it doesn't."

I turned around for Jill and Joe's reaction. They responded in silence, their fuming thoughts left to gather inside like a shaken up soda bottle. It was pathetic. Why didn't they stand up to him when I couldn't? One thing was for certain: if we stayed long enough for me to evolve, I'd make sure Marc didn't tell us what to do ever again. Yellow sparks fleeted from my cheeks at the thought.

It was obvious which cave was the one holding the chamber, because the works of man had carved out elaborate illistrations to lure in tourists. I felt my hate for these two legged animal's greed once again rise to the surface. They scarred something mystical, nature born for pointless publicity.

Marc walked boldly into the puzzle room, not that it was much to be bold about. Bright red lights flickered inside fake plastic torches along the stone walls, left to rot and gather dust until the bulbs inside finally blew themselves out. It was a one-person chamber human sized, if you didn't count the square indent located at the center of the room and the stone pieces piled up clumsily around it. The room was so thickly covered in dust, that we left footprints on the floor where it clung to our fur. This tourist attraction's acme was long gone, and in its wake an abandoned miracle of nature.

He reached out and took the bottom most piece so the others would topple and fall to the floor with a noisy clatter. He laughed weakly, like a small child just figuring out how to work his new toy, and smeared away the dust so the faded image of a corner piece became clear. Marc brought it closer to his face, eyes squinting. Throwing it down roughly, he scanned through all the other pieces, wiping the dust away. "What's this supposed to be, anyway?"

Joe and Jill attempted to look at one of the stone tablets themselves, only for Marc to stand in their path protectively, pushing the pieces behind him and out of reach of _their _greedy hands.

"That's the, uh..." I blurted out to prevent a fight, pretending that the name had escaped me for a moment. I couldn't let them know that their names were still fresh in my mind. "K-something... Kabuto. You remember what it look's like, right Marc?"

"It's a crab." He grunted, immediately sorting the squares like a machine, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Side pieces went here, the eyes over here... now that the image was in his head, there was no stopping Marc from completing it all on his own, even taking credit for naming the picture in the first place. It took under two minutes for the pile of stones to become a neat layer with a single piece left to insert. After a spiteful smug grin at us three, he pressed it in with a single claw and stood back to contemplate his work.

And suddenly, the floor beneath us shattered, the stone fragments dissapearing into thin air the second they disconnected. The others fell within the gaping darkness, their horrorified shrieks (and Marc's stiffled shout of surprise) muffled in the endless abyss below me. Lucky me, I was clinging to the side edge where the floor remained with both tiny hands, helpless and struggling to keep my unsteady grip. I scrambled against the smooth footholds, uttering minute whimpers of dread. "H-help! Please, someone!" Teeth clenched from the effort, I hoisted myself up, one foot teetering on the edge, the other stiff and tensed from fear. Blood oozed out from the puncture wound on my shoulder and gathered around my right hand.

There came a whistling noise from the dark, and something thick and rough curled around the free leg, tugging at it until I had to remain still or threaten a dislocation. My arms gave way like sticks, slamming my jaw against the stone. Jill's desperate voice filtered up from below. "Jade, it's me! Hang on for just a little-

"Get the hell off me! My god Jill, I can't hold you...any..." I broke off, eyes tightly shut. The blood made my right hand slide down a few precious millimeters. Why was she so heavy?

Joe called up from farther below then Jill. "But, Jade, the bottom, it-

Suddenly, the weight on my leg seemed twice as heavy. Joe was attached to Jill in a long, slender chain, with lonely me to hold them all up. "What, is Marc down there too? Jill, your hurting my leg!" I groaned quietly, the skin beneath my knuckle fur buldging a sickly white. No way I could hold them all up. It was either them, or all of us. My decision was selfish, but it was smart. I was about to gather my anger for a shock, when the pressure on my thigh bone eased considerably, Jill's vine still coiled tight around my leg. "Huh? What's..?"

"I was going to tell you that the floor was only a couple yards below us." Jill said promptly, her voice echoing loudly on the cavern walls.

Marc's throaty laughter- I could tell he'd stressed it to keep from screaming. "Yeah, before you interupted him with that whiny little 'you're hurting my leg! You're hurting my leg!' bit."

"You'd be crying too if you were holding up five times your body weight." I spat, my grip slackening. Feeling the weakness, Jill released my leg and clamped the vine around my chest instead. "Why didn't _you _say anything about the floor?"

"I was thinking about it..."

The walls towered over me on my short ride to the ground, the pictures scratched into them getting fainter as the light piling down from above grew thin. Once on the ground, I immediately swiveled my head about, scampering on all fours to nearby corners and scratching at the rough stone for small holes I could squeeze through. From another's eyes, I looked down right rodent-like, my nose twitching in it's search for a draft of fresh air. Marc slammed his tail down against the stone floor, drawing my attention in their direction. He gave me a questionable stare, much like the expression he would normally make if he had eyebrows to raise. "Calm down. We're just in one of the caves."

"How do you know? What if there isn't a way out?" I asked, turning away from him to resume my desperate search.

"There is a way out..." Joe added in his quiet voice. "It's a stairway that leads back outside. And we have to hurry, before an- Joe was cut short by a white flash striking his back, and gave a yelp of pain. He stumbled to his knees, flaming tail whipping wildly behind him in feeble defense. From the illuminated dark, we saw a single eye, the pupil shrinking to a tiny speck in response the flames.

"Unknown what you were. Known now. Serry. " It trilled in a thickly accented dialect, tiny flickering lights uncertainly circling it's bony frame.

Joe stood up and growled at it, his back still burning from coming in contact with one of the gleaming lights but otherwise did nothing. It wasn't like he would actually risk a first injury by battling it.

Marc shoved aside his brother, rearing to full height over the Unknown. His jaw parted in a hostile manner. "Tell us where the exit is, Peggy, and hurry up about it."

The pokémon narrowed its one eye, one of the orbs pulsing a pale yellow. Pausing in front of Marc's muzzle, it spinned in all sorts of directions, never moving from its perch on thin air. When he leaned forward for a better look, it shot straight in between his eyes like a gun bullet. He howled angrily and stepped back, massaging his now smarting face.

"Unknown where the exit is? Tee bad. I known, but rude water lizard unknown my proper name." It hovered sideways so that it could face the wall in front of them. Little - it looked a bit Roman- letters were lined along them in near flawless columes, all the symbols bearing a small circle somewhere inside their outlines. "Stay here fer now. I now known much from the readings, know much more then known now if you read..."

The way this thing was talking was both creepy (it had no mouth to speak with and still sounded vocal enough to pass as a true 'voice'), and giving me a lurking migrain. I was guessing that it wanted us to read what the wall said because it would help us somehow. "What language is it?" I asked, turning to the eerie Unknown.

"Unknown."

"You don't even know..?"

"_Unknown."_ It repeated firmly, impatience fluttering inside the glowing spheres.

_What?_ I turned back to the scriptures for a closer look. Most of the letters seemed a familiar English lettering, but distorted by the small circles located on the strange symbols. In the center of each circle was a small dot, all seeming to stare back at me like...like little eyes. It seemed pretty simple after that discovery. This wasn't a language at all. They were small carvings of different sub species of Unknown, all resembling a letter of the alphabet.

"Know what I mean now, slow rat?" It asked, slowy creeping its way towards the back wall.

"Yeah, I could read this, no problem." I replied defensively, miffed that such a creature with so limited a vocabulary was calling me the dumb one.

"Gewd." Instead of pausing where the stone wall began, the shimmering unknown dissipated within it like a rain drop into a puddle. The remaining light gathered at Joe's useful firelight now that the orb's own light was elsewhere, shrouding the letters I was just starting to read succumb to the dark.

Without my asking, Joe blindly groped forward until he saw my shadow dancing in the flame's light. Since his species always had a light to use for eyes, the downfall of evolution made their own natural eyesight weak and useless. He only saw moving blotches melded together with the blacks and dark browns. "You can't reach up to the top. Hang on a second..." He pawed the stone floor until his claws bumped against me and, once I clambered on his scaly palm, raised me up as far as his own length would allow.

Even with the advantage of a close up veiw of the letters, I had as much trouble reading them as Joe had for common sight. His tail was too short to reach such height, and several times I had to close my eyes and trace over the carvings in an attempt of picturing it like the sightless. I read the lines out loud, stumbling over my unsteady reciting:

_"'...And it is these four keys that will open the door, the four keys that will release the gift and give back to those that have lost. The un-wholes need only the riddle's answer to find the keys and make themselves whole once again...'" _I faltered when I began reading the next column, stunned to silence at the sentence I had already memorize. This wall had to be talking about us. It wasn't possible to already know what this was from a simple cryptic dream. _"'The gentle whisper of a mother that soothes the land to sleep. A place where great colonies are born, and everyone is a brother. One shy of difference, land of beige rolling mounds. When the sky's blanket is the Earth's, sending shafts of chills.'"_

"Hey, isn't that your riddle, Jade?" Joe inquired, his hot breath clinging to my shaggy fur.

I nodded, and read on faster then before, since I was slowly being lowered to the ground with every word I translated. _"'But once the door is open, the blood of both races will be shed.' _I think that means human and pokémon." I added in. _"A once loyal friend will turn on his master, and more then one heart will be flayed."_

Nothing but the floor-wall intercept was left unscanned. That was the end of an incomplete message we were too small and blind to read.

I slid off Joe's hand, landing neatly on the stone floor and gave Marc an uneasy stare. The other two followed in turn, the frightening thought of betrayal aimed directly at our short tempered leader. He lifted up his hands in defense, his eyes gazing at each of us individually as if daring to speak our suspicions aloud. Our prying eyes forced him to stammer explainations. "Hey, don't look at me. It isn't my fault Jade's little riddle's up there. For all we know, she was just hallucinating last night."

"It wasn't an hallucination! Who're you to say it wasn't?" I countered, my imagination running freely for the true meaning of the strange visitor in my dream. "You're just trying to convince us that my dream didn't mean anything, when it really saved both of our lives in that fire."

"No I'm not! Are you seriously telling me you'd trust a friggin slab of stone instead of-

"It's not talking about him." Jill stated, killing the arguement like an assassin's bullet. "When you were looking into the 'future', Jade, you said you saw all of us huddled in a group near a Feraligator. Now, unless their are two Marcs, I seriously doubt he'd evolve in such a short time with three other pokémon to help his battles. You said you were upset when the Feraligator hurt the human..."

"I was hysterical." I corrected for her, remembering the heartwrenching scene by heart. Seeing myself in so much emotional pain was almost too much to bear. "So we knew the human. But what human would we trust? They're all the same."

Jill already had an answer planned for us. "Not all of them. That boy that helped us escape -Meeko was his name right?- He told the scientist he was getting a Totodile as a starter pokémon. So, it isn't Marc that's going to kill him, but his own pokémon."

_A once loyal friend will turn on his master... _It was all starting to make sense. What the other's hadn't mentioned, thankfully, was the other race's, the pokémon's, blood had to be spilt as well. I instincively looked up at Joe, replaying the scene of him foolishly charging at Meeko's attacker. Had the sudden draft of fresh air not got my attention, I would have given in to the salty bile in my mouth and vomit all over the floor. When I found a way out of here, I would have to find a way around this prediction as well, for both Joe's sake and my own. The best idea was to avoid Meeko whenever possible, or risk the death of one of my closest friends and my fragile spirit. Having never faced pure, suicidal-inducing grief before in my lifetime, it would be a deadly blow inside and out.

Marc breathed in through his mouth, feeling rather then scenting the trickling breeze of fresh air. He shouldered through us, the ground shaking under my feet as he passed, and lashed out for his brother's wrist. Half dragging the powerless sibling forward, Marc inhaled deeply, using Joe as his living lantern to reveal the once hidden corridors leading outside. "Haul ass or get left behind, you two. I'm sick of this place." He seethed at Jill and me from up ahead, obviously showing his hurt reputation through his usual fits of anger.

We trotted up until we met his pace at a steady run. Both of us had short legs, so for our pace to match his, we were jogging as close as possible around Joe's tail, occasionally slipping and falling behind. It was a relief to turn, quite possibly, for the hundreth time of this seemingly endless labyrinth, to find the slanted rectangle of light shining against the wall up ahead to our left. Parallel to it was a stone stairway leading up tothe cave entrance, which we clambered through gratefully until returning at the cave mouth we so hastily turned away from earlier. This time was no different.

Once outside, I set to work cleaning the patches of bloody fur, along with any other spots that to me needed a good tongue flattening. It felt good to get the heaviness of grime off my filthy coat and feel the blinding glare of a sun we had temporarily forgotten about. Slowly, the chill of the cave began to ebb away.

Relief, like a mask, plastered on all of our faces in shaky smiles and nervous laughter. But hidden deep beneath the masks, we were brooding on what the rest of the ruin's message had to say, and how the horrible fate of that human boy was connected to it.


	12. Disaster at the Cave

_Last Week... The four leave Violet City and a very suspicious Omri with the Zephyr badge in hand. To get to Ecruteak, they had to cut through the Ruins of Alph. Marc, against the others' wishes, solved one of the secret puzzles, only for the ground beneath them to shatter. After falling to the bottom, a native Unknown tell them to read what the walls had to say. They warned of a betrayer against his master, who, after putting together Jade's dream, Jill told was Meeko's Totodile. When the message ended, they stumbled through the ruin's cave until reaching an exit._

Currently Injured: Nothing worth mentioning

Author's Note: Surprise! ...Or not? Heh, I couldn't wait, so I submitted this a day in advance. The beginning is a bit slow, but the ending is anything but... Enjoy.

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**Chapter Twelve: Disaster at the Cave**

Apparently, the roadmap unveiling our path beyond the ruins was straight forward enough for even a foolish tourist to find his way to the next rest stop. The catch for this easy mile run stroll, was the Union cave you had to travel through in order to get to the next town. It was 'highly recommended that you pack up on reserve items and a pokémon for your protection for your journey through the cave the night before.' For humans. After all the walking we were doing in such short a time, I felt confident that we could jog around the region and back without too much trouble. Now if only the building ache in my back would stop hurting so bad, then we'd be moving at more then a snail's pace.

It started to hurt when we left the ruins, slowly crawling up my tailbone vertebre by vertebre until the whole backside of my body was one enormous sore. I found it more bearable when I walked in a slouch, even if this slowed me down considerably, as if I wasn't slow enough as it was. Marc could clearly see my struggles, and out of spite alone began quickening his already swift strides down the side of the dirt road. The two others had no choice but to follow, fearing he would lose his way if he got out of sight. It would be far worse for the strong one to break from the group than the semi-crippled. My self esteem shriveled up like a dead leaf, and I bent my neck down even lower than before.

Before I knew it, I was running on all fours and catching up with the group, my spine bending perfectly with the pose my species was originally supposed to take. From this low to the ground, I could smell things I never noticed before, forsee what was ahead of me easier than when I stood on legs, and best of all, the pain had vanished to a frustrating memory. I mentally added it to the countless pile of things Marc did that made me want to hear him scream. I swore my almost non-existant faith on the Lord's name that one day he would be the one looking up at my smug face from a body he had no control over. One day...

ooOOoo

"Okay, it's either the harbor route, or the grassy route." Marc said, mostly to himself. The busy bustling of trainers in the grass to his right tempted him onward, but the curiousity of his swimming abilities overuled. He turned left, pausing in front of the boardwalk that stretched on like an endless highway. The sea was alive with idle fishing bobbers, and their stone-faced owners settled on the edge of the dock, slowly nodding off in the clutches of the afternoon's drowsy spell. Even if he was clumsy (or bored) enough to snag a delicate scale on one of their hooks, he would most likely succeed in thrusting them into the ocean rather then engaging in a string of battles against Magikarps. That even sounded a bit fun, dragging them underwater.

When he plunged into the water, Marc hardly made a sound. The cold was detatched from him in a way; its only hint of presence was a weak cold attack on the thin membrane of his third, transparent eyelid. His lungs were still bloated from oxygen because he didn't make half as much air-fueled movements with his new, lean swimming limbs. He could stay under and fly in this underwater sky for minutes on end if he wanted to. Above him, he could see the line of hooks and shimmering outlines of the humans like he wasn't even below the surface. He opened his mouth, letting the salty tang swirl in his mouth before spitting it back out.

A shift of water currents brushed lightly against his arm, warning him that even though the murky thickness of the ocean concealed an approaching foe, it was still circling several arm strokes away, wary of this new pokémon's invasion on its territory. Marc strained his eyes, slowly turning himself so that he and the other were face-to-face in silent challenge. Or, snout-to-snout rather. A clawed fist landed square beneath his chin, and blood fogged from a severed part of his tongue Marc nearly bit off from the force. Bubbles streamed out through his nostrils. Who was this enemy? Who dared question his authority over the water?

It was another Totodile, superior by age and size, but lacking the human advanced mind. A smarter creature would have continue attacking Marc until he drowned from the inability of resurfacing for a breath of air. No, this pokémon wasn't fit for the mentally advanced battler. Even if he would never be returning to this place after the former alpha fighter's demise, the waters around would rightfully belong to him when he left.

Marc bared his immensely powerful jaws, some of the stray blood seeping through the spaces between his fangs. It was time to put his underwater battling to a little test.

ooOOoo

When Marc glided into the sea, hardly a drop landed onto the dock, he was so graceful. His expression was one I rarely saw in elementary school, and never at all when he reached adolescence. He looked happy for once, even if he didn't show it through his cold green eyes. I almost wished we would just leave him to his body's natural enviornment, so he could always be happy and forget about his old human life. A child's fantasy, but one that actually had a small chance of working out.

"Oh my god... guys, is that blood?" Jill could see a foggy neon red cloud just beneath the now slightly disturbed surface, small bubbles wavering up to the top and popping soundlessly. Some of the fishermen glanced in our direction, and then back at the blood dyed water where two figures were merging into a single, tumbling mass. They weren't interested in our kind as much as they were for the unknown swimmer making its vicious onslaught of some unforchunate pokémon below. For a moment, I thought that it was Marc's blood until I recalled how easily he killed that Spearow when he was near death from poison. Nothing in these calm fishing grounds could defeat an almost heathy fighter like him.

One of the fishers gave a cry of alarm when his bobber submerged, and started to reel in the line, his fishing pole bending over from the stress. He stood up on his feet, his catch just a few reels from meeting his pokéball... The others began chuckling when he lost his balance and fell spread eagled into the water, laughing even louder when the nearest fisher also fell in moments after. And then another. And another. Many of them pulled their hooks out of the water before they either lost their poles or also became a victim of an icy dip in the sea. I began thinking that Marc was having way to much fun with this. He was wasting our time.

Angry, soaked-to-the-bone fishermen stormed past us, leaving behind dotted trails of salt water, just as Marc leaped out of the water with a struggling form in his jaws. He clambered up the dock's soft, soggy wood, using his claws as tools, until he reached the top. The pokémon in his mouth was an imature Goldeen, leaking rivers of blood from the fatal injuries on its tender body. He spat it out, watching the last of its struggles before it gave a great shudder and died. We watched from the other side, stunned as he kicked it back into the ocean now that the fun was gone. When Marc looked up at us, no doubt waiting for us to follow him, blood trickled down his maw. A wild, crazed look in his eye scurried back to the corners of his mind.

Careful to avoid the puddles of both water and blood, we reached the other end of the boardwalk, side stepping the spot where the Goldeen spent its last moments. None of us, not even Marc, mentioned the incident. I made the wild assumption that maybe, just maybe, he regretted the quick murder he comitted. Looking up at him, my hopes were crumbled. He was too busy pleasantly licking the bloody residue from his lips until they resumed their azure sheen.

"Did you get stung this time too?" I asked him bitterly, watching the floating carcass as we walked by it.

"Fck off. I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, but you're aloud to treat us like this all the time... why not vise-versa for a change?" My tone became dangerously wise.

Marc halted and turned around to look down at me. "If the same rules apply for your attacking me, I'd be happy to oblige." I sent small showers of sparks to the ground as an answer. He would never hurt me, I realized. If he didn't care about my well being, he wouldn't have saved my life by killing that Spearow. No matter how much we got under each other fur...and scales, our fragile friendship was still bound by a few remaining strings.

He sighed in disgust and continued on, deciding that this was too much trouble than my inexpensive worth.

Not very far up ahead of him, a small pokémon center lay nearby the cave entrance. By the looks of it, this hospital rarely had bunks filled in the ER, and even seemed the type to be closed on Sundays because visitors were so uncommon. I pitied any nurse working there, with no opportunity to show any real promise in medical fields, but quickly forgot about it. There were bigger problems to be brooding on. Such as getting through this cave in one piece.

Union Cave wasn't nearly as bad as the ruins in both the darkness and bad vibes once you were inside it. You could still see the way clearly no matter where you stood, thanks to the shining crystal ore melded to the cave wall. The fact that there were map markers for lost travelers all along the cave was a comforting thought as well. Unlike Alph, this place was still bustling with human activity, and still would be until nature took its course and toppled the cave after years of corrosion.

The rock face all throughout the cave was a dark blue, shimmering like the living where patches of water reflected off it. Stalactites reached down at us from the ceiling, reminding me of the deperate hands of a foot-shackled prisoner that begged for release. If Zubat had eyes to show, I would have seen hundreds roosting among them, gaping open their mouths to screech inaudible secrets to each other. Thank goodness for the unwanted brightness given off by the crystals. Had it been completely dark, they would be feasting on our throats.

"I kinda like this place." I commented, pausing beneath one of the priceless gems. "It's very pretty in here..."

"Personally, I like the outside better. Not as many people crowding around the fire." Joe said as gruffly as his voice could manage, sliding his tail away from the shivering Jill. I didn't blame her for being cold. She was the only one of us who didn't have some sort of resistance against it, evolutionally unprepared for such low a temperature.

"Well excuse me if I don't have a heater constantly sticking out of my a-

"Shut up, both of you and take a drink." Marc hissed from up ahead, bending down beside a shallow pool of water created by the endless dripping of water from the ceiling. After rinsing his hands in it, he scooped some up in both hands and began lapping it with his tounge, flushing out the salty tang still lingering in his mouth. He swirled it around, and then spat it out onto the cave floor. "I'm not going to be slowed down by a bunch of dehydrated idiots."

He made a good point there. I repeated Marc's drinking method until I too was fully replenished with water. It looked tempting to fully clean my coat with, so I dipped my hand in until I thought enough was stuck to my fur. When I brought it back up, I smeared it over my hurt shoulder arm, clensing away any traces of blood I missed in my most recent grooming. However, when I reached my face, specifically the pink spots on my cheeks, a painful discharge crackled along my fur until it smelled horrible and jutted out like quills. I wasn't nearly as amused as the other three were.

Joe bent over the water in distasted, turning his head shamefully away from the ugly reptilian face looking back at him. Closing his eyes, he took a single tiny sip from his hands, and dropped the rest back into the pool with relief. Just from that little drink, Joe's mouth felt full of rain-hardened snow, his hands likewise. He didn't think avoiding dehydration was worth the sharp minty aftermath in his throat. Even if he had forgotten the last time he actually drank water, Joe really wasn't even thirsty from the start. It only made his insides shrivel up from the cold.

Jill was an entirely different story. Like Marc, she wasn't drawn away from water, she was attracted to it. For a bit, she drank with her tongue, still not content even after half a minute of drinking. She brought her face up to look at us curiously, water dripping down her chin. "I'm still thirsty."

"What's the matter? You've nearly drained this thing to a puddle." Marc spat, inching his way along the pathway out.

"Well... it isn't working." She replied lamely, once again bending over her reflection. "I think it's something in the water. It's like, I'm refreshed for a second, but after I swallow, I'm thirsty again."

To me, the answer was plainly obvious. I doubted either of the boys had noticed the yellow discoloring along the necklace of buds on her throat and edges of her annoying leaf. She wasn't the one thirsty; it was the natural paracitic plants that screamed for a drink. "Put your vines in the water. Better yet, you should just take a quick bath." I instructed in a flat voice, now joining Marc in his gradual ditching of the slow drinker. _C'mon, it's a simple drink stop. This should have been finished and done with at least five paragraphs ago._

Marc, Joe and I continued on without Jill's company, hardly slackening when we heard her yelp in surprise, followed by a noisy splash. Joe almost laughed, but not before checking to see if Marc showed a hint of amusement. There was none that he could see, so he looked down at his claws to distract himself from the thought. He wasn't allowed to think something was funny unless his brother thought the same, otherwise it was just embarrassing .

Shortly after her fall into the water, we heard Jill catching up to us, her chin trembling from the tremors of her teeth. Her thirst might have been quenched, but she was still as cold as before, colder even. She shook droplets from her body and bounded beside me, the withered parts of her plants healing before my eyes.

We continued on without any problems, aside from dashing for poor hiding spots when determined trainers wandered too close. The farther we advanced along the path, the fewer trainers we came across, since the crystals were becoming less common. Although I couldn't see it, I could definately hear things moving about on the ceiling. More than once a foul smelling substance had mysteriously dropped down from above.

The cave continued to grow dimmer. It seemed to blacken out with every step we took, as if trying to push us back with an invisible hand of darkness. We gave up trying to find the markers leading to the exit, relying only on Joe's tail, as usual, for guidance. "Joe, why don't you try breathing fire?" I asked, only half joking.

"I don't think so..."

"Why not? It could do us some help right about now." Jill joined in on the debate.

"I don't want to." He almost sounded sure about the idea.

Jill's face bloomed from the dancing shadows. "Hey Marc, what do you think about the idea? ...Marc?"

A cascade of sound rained down on us before we got an answer, forcing me to me knees with a low scream. It was worse than the pokéball's screech, throbbing around inside my ears and my mind in a high pitched noise too high for human ears. It lasted for only a few seconds, and yet the noise was still lingering when whatever had caused it stopped. I opened my eyes, not that it did very much difference from keeping them closed. My eyes rolled to their own will, leaving me staggering on unsteady feet. Flashes of what was going on were given to me in small portions, depending on when my eyes decided to look over at the wanted target.

Joe's tail flame, whipping around in the dark... dark shapes flapping over us... a flash of claws, and the tangy scent of blood. I closed my eyes, reaching up with my sweaty hands. They massaged them gently, until the pulsing beneath my eyelids ceased. Looking back up, I was content that I could see straight, but nearly screamed when something jumped down on my back, flapping its leathery wings against my still prickling fur. It attempted to dig its fangs into my neck, only to pull away sharply, leaving me alone for the time being. The mane around my neck, I found out, was not just for show. Many a predator looking to kill me would get a mouthful of bur-sharp hairs.

I ran for Joe's tail like a bat out of hell, the instinctive fear of aerial attacks bursting in my cheeks. The things didn't go near Joe for some reason, instead aiming for the two larger blood sacs farther away from the light. We needed light, but where were we going to get it? Joe couldn't breath fire, and the exit seemed still so far off. As if on cue, my cheeks started to feel hot. _Of course... _

The section of Union cave lit up in a flurry of strobe, electricity shooting from one Zubat to the next in a jerking chain of six or seven, before they dropped to the ground. The others fled from the poison light. I opened an eye a squint, watching a brave one screeching at Marc in that awful voice they all shared, and then leave to join the others. It seemed like a trick of the eye, but I could have sworn I saw movement near him, before my attack ended, shrouding us in dark.

Joe dove after Marc, forcing me and my jelloid knees to follow. Jill was running blindly for Joe's light, still utterly confused at what had happened. To her, it was a loud noise, things attacking her, and then a flash of light. True, I wasn't any far better myself.

"Marc! Are you-

Joe's concern was cut short as he was tackled by a bulky shape. He was pinned to the cave wall, gasping and trying to pry off the strong, bloody hands gripped tight around his neck. Marc's face was glowing eerily in the dying firelight, his eyes unset and rolling as mine had done. The flame on Joe's tail was getting smaller, smaller...

"Marc, get off him!" Jill reached out with her vines, coiling around both his wrists. The confused child paid no attention, his lips curled into a snarl. He tightened his grip, drawing blood from the weakening sibling's neck. Joe made one last feeble effort for air, darkness feasting on the corners of his vision.

"M-arc... st-st..." This was really it... he could feel himself giving up. Marc wasn't planning on letting go. He was fated to die beneath his very brother's hateful stare, never to know why such a murder took place.

Joe suddenly felt needles traveling through his body, a crackling yellow light emitting from Marc's back. The claws released his neck, allowing Joe to take shuddering gasps, even when the electricity was traveling through his brother, and into him. It was over in an instant, but the twitching Marc was making made it seem like I was still attacking him. Like I could. That was two attacks in a row, and I hardly had the energy to stand anymore.

Joe stood up shakily, coughing and crawling away from Marc. He hand one hand pressed against his neck, feeling the warm liquid bubble through his fingers.

Jill had her vines bound tight around Marc's wrist and jaw, not that it was needed. His eyes were half closed, and aside from the accending and decending of his chest, his entire body was still. A small part of his side wound had reopened during the bat attack, since some of his torn bandage seemed darkened with a shadowy blood. He stirred weakly under Jill's grasp, sputtering dark smoke from his mouth.

"So... the message's true. You _are _a traitor." Jill said in a dissappointed voice, constricting her grip until she saw Marc's eyes leaking reluctant tears.

He squirmed on the ground for all he was worth, but soon found that powerful back legs weren't very useful when they could hardly move. "Leht go off me." Came his muffled voice.

"I don't think so."

"Let him go, Jill." Joe rasped, lashing out from the dark and gripping both her vines in his claws. "He didn't mean to hurt me."

"He seemed pretty sure about it to me. I'm not moving." She said, wincing at the piercing pain.

"I dun know what happened!" He narrowed his eyes at Jill and me, a fragment of them actually looking sincere.

"It was a supersonic attack. Don't you know anything about the wildlife here?" A familar voice spat nearby. Flame fired to life behind a boulder, illuminating Blaze's gaunty form. Newly obtained muscles buldged from beneath his broad shoulders as he stalked towards us, despite how undernourished the rest of him appeared. His eyes were tired, crying out for sleep, but showed a great everlasting anger nonetheless. It seemed that every time when ran into him, the abuse he endured further hardened his heart and made his personality bitter.

In her surprise, Jill unraveled her vines, instinctively drawing them away from burning harm. Marc scrambled weakly to his feet, still recovering from the trauma his anti-electricity body had received. "What are you doing here alone, Blaze? I think your human is missing his living pin cushion."

The flame crackling over Blaze's back took on a darker hue. "I made a promise to you that I'd be here at the cave, so I intend to keep it." He sniggered, darting his eyes at a hidden movement behind us. He casually scratched at an itch with his hind leg. "And who said I was alone?"

My ears were already raw from the beating they had taken only minutes before, and yet here I was, once again falling victim to the poisonous noises. I could have sworn I heard this from somewhere before... but it was a lifetime ago... Right now, all I wanted to do was listen to the high screech, let it sap away my mind's will. So I did. I was oblivious of everything around me.

ooOOoo

The Net Ball collided into Marc's back, blanketing the dazed totodile in a plume of rose red. His eyes widened through the bloody cloud, sluggishly turning his head around at his attacker. In such darkness, he could only see the glare of Adrian's silver chains and zippers against the two pokémon's flames, and then nothing at all. The darkness closed in.

Marc was sinking snout first through an endless pool of water, and fast. The water felt glacier cold, as it should have on his first dip into the ocean earlier had he been human. He tried to swim up, up to the welcoming air, but the recent attacks on his body left him motionless, forced to sit and watch as he tumbled deeper into the abyss. Where was he? How had he gotten out of the cave?

His memories were plucked from his mind the farther along he sank. He could feel them slipping from his grasp, one by one, disintegrating into nothingness. The panic was horrible. He had to get up! Somehow, his strength prevailed, and Marc turned himself upright, clawing through the water currents. Howling shrieks dug into his ears, freezing him in place. A fishing net, glowing neon blue, encircled Marc, tightening around his body until he screamed for release. Invisible hands reached beneath his scales, seizing what little strength remained. The zig zagging patterns of the net pulsed black with his energy. Once again in a nose dive, he continued his swift decent.

After a short while, the nets released him since he had no more energy to give. Marc could see the end of his journey through blurred images. Something pressed into his chest, forcing him right side up. His feet feel lightly against a floor made of nothing. The water shrouded away like misty fog, revealing two darkened figures on each side of his vision. The one to his right was just under six feet in height, three times higher than its partner. They approached Marc in perfectly synchronized movements, arms folded professionally behind their own backs. He cowered beneath their stares, struggling to put as much distance between him and the two ominous shadows. Could he swim up now? He looked above him in search of the water's surface, finding nothing but black. His blood froze from the fear.

Marc widened his eyes once the two could be identified. The tall one was a human with dark blond hair and a face curled into a malicious smirk. His olive eyes were ones that dug deep into your soul to unearth secrets meant to be kept buried. Parallel the human was a totodile with the same green, piercing eyes, a small size proving how young it really was... on the outside. A dirty bandage covered up a healing wound in its side, but never once did its stride slacken.

A cold numbness of shock spread across Marc's rigid body. He was staring into the eyes of himself, split into two different bodies and minds. They took a few steps, and he felt even colder than before. Something told him that he couldn't make contact with them, or more than just a portion of his memories would be lost forever. And still, his bodies continued onward, pausing a mere foot from Marc. A layer of frost coated his scales. The cold prevented him any gift of movement, however much he wanted it.

The human bent down low until he was eye level with Marc, his face forming a devilish smile. Both species held out their hands, two beings of a single mind, prickly ice gathering on Marc's cheek where their fingers were a hairs length from touching. Marc tried to cry out his protest. Couldn't move...couldn't do a thing...

They spoke in an overlapping voice, devoid of any emotion. **_"Farewell child..." _**Their fingertips grazed his snout.

ooOOoo

Meanwhile, outside of the trembling Net Ball, the glowing red button in the center faded back into white. Despite all of his efforts, Marc finally meet his first defeat as a pokémon. He had been caught.


	13. Stealing Back

Last Week... _It seemed easy enough, cutting through the brightly lit Union Cave. The trip through it was casual and without any problems. During the first half of the hike. As they descend deeper into the cave, the lighted path dies out, leaving them at the mercy of a flock of zubat. After fending them off, a supersonic suffering Marc attacks Joe, thankfully broken from his confusion by a shock treatment from Jade. As if things weren't bad enough, Adrian's stolenpokémon, Blaze,appears, distracting them so Adrian would have a chance of catching one of the gang. Unfortunately, he succeeds in catching the weakened Marc._

Currently Injured: All, suffering from after effects of a pokéball. Status is Unknown. Marc, suffering from pokéball capture. Status is Unknown.

Author's Note: Hm. All I can say is that this chapter is a bit longer than the other ones (I think). Don't worry about a long wait time readers, because since I'm on deadlines now I will type like the wind! -cracks knuckles- ...At least until school testing is over next week. o-o'

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Stealing Back**

Adrian clipped the Net Ball to his leather belt, disrupting the dull pattern of the typical pokéball colors. A teal green replaced the traditional dark red top, and bore a net-like pattern over it that stopped at the upper half color border. It certaintly brought out the color in his collection. He made a mental note to pay an unexpected visit to that old man back at the town to restock on more exotic pokéballs.

He prodded the lifeless forms of the three remaining pokémon, getting nothing back in response. Should he capture these ones too? Many empty pokéballs and the rarity of the bunch tempted him greatly, but his cruelty won over. He would leave them to eventually stir and find that their leader was gone, not knowing its whereabouts until something worse than packs of zubat attacked. Or, thrice better... should they survive the rest of this cave and have the freak chance of meeting their lost friend later on, he would force them to battle each other. If he was in a good mood, he would capture them, and store the chikorita and pichu (if indeed it was still a pichu) in his PC. Such lacking in physical strength and type advantages would taint his otherwise flawless team. There were things like that, that couldn't be fixed through any techniques of kindness or abuse.

Blaze lept down from his perch and stood before Adrian on his hind legs, leaving his stomach at the mercy of his master's steel tipped boot. The tan skin was lined with healing wounds, punishments for mistakes Blaze never intended to make again. He looked down at the ground, awaiting either a painless praise, or yet another slash wound to collect along his underbelly.

"I have another pokémon, so I should be awarding you." Adrian purred, shrinking the Net Ball to its more convenient, golf ball size. His pokémon dared to look Adrian in the eye. Two things wrong there. First off, he wasn't even allowed to make eye contact with his master; it would symbolize defiance. And two, the glimmer in Blaze's eyes resembled a hope that refused to die off. Every time he had reduced his pokémon to a weeping heap in the dirt, Adrian was always sure the hope had finally been snuffed out, and he had no risk of it turning on him when it evolved.

He scowled angrily, kicking Blaze harshly in the side. A bloody print implanted against the ground every rotation the rolling cyndiquill made. He came to a rest when he bumped into the charmander, pretending that the warmth the fire pokémon gave off didn't appeal to him instead of causing burns. He moaned, rolling onto his unharmed side. The fire retreated from his back.

"Blaze, I can hardly see with so little light." Adrian commented lowly. He took slow steps to his pokémon. "We wouldn't want me to trip and hurt you, now would we?"

Of course, this was only another reason to vent out on him. Blaze could almost see fine, and he knew that his master's eyes were better off than his. He would have loved to urge his flame to return, but the strength was gone. Through defeated eyes, Blaze watched the glowing silver tip of Arian's boot get closer...closer, exeeding in brightness as it reflected off the lizard's tail flame. He curled into a ball, hoping it would somehow block out most of the pain.

Moments later, humans from the shining paths swerved their heads deeper into the depths of the cave, eyes widening at the bone chilling noise of pokémon screams.

ooOOoo

Like water through a strainer, the humming noise drained away and I woke with a start. It was dark where ever I was, so I pulled up my wrists until they accidentally snapped my chin shut in a double punch. Nothing cold resisting. No energy sucking. I could have sworn that noise was... I let loose an audible sigh of relief. Just the thought of being inside another pokéball made me feel weaker at the knees then I already was.

Oh. Right. Now I remembered. Blaze had come after I stopped Marc from hurting Joe, and he said he wasn't alone. Adrian must have thrown a pokéball, thankfully not aimed at me. But who _was _it after?

Joe's tail flickered nearby, showing two other forms near the ring of light that were undoubtedly Marc and Jill. Ha ha, Blaze! It was all just a dream. The zubats made the noise, and that was what made me faint. My mind was calmed by this explanation, and at this I trotted towards Jill. You couldn't miss that green skin, even in the dark. She heard me approach, but did nothing to prove it so. Her head was down, like she was having a bad headache. I didn't blame her. Sure, I didn't hurt at all, but maybe she was sensitive about the screeches. Deciding not to disturb her recovery, I bent on fours and scampered the couple paces to Joe's tail. His eyes, half open, were fixed on the ground. I put a small hand on his left arm. No response. He was spaced still.

"Heh, looks like Joe's still out of it." I said brightly, light hearted that such a terrible nightmare clincher was just that. A mere nightmare with pokéballs and stranglers. Trying to sound irritable, I walked over to Marc. "Hey, you lazy bag of scales, get up. I miss the sun." With a playful swipe, I brought my hand down.

"..." My eyes stared straight ahead, sightless. I patted the stone slab again, and then half a dozen more times. This lump of rock wasn't Marc. Where was he? Good god, _please_ no... it was supposed to be a nightmare!

"WHERE IS HE?" I screamed and rushed over to Jill, shaking her forearm as hard as my strength permitted. It wasn't much. She dragged her gaze sideways at me, and I realized with a shock that her head had been lowered in sorrow, not pain. Unshed tears brimmed the whites of her eyes. This was really happening. No, no, no...

Joe... Joe. He had to tell me Marc wasn't gone. He had to! His own brother wouldn't lie to me. Would he..?

"Where did he go. Don't lie to me." I repeated in a murderously calm voice, feeling a painful tug in my throat. Swallowing, I forced the screaming and tears back down.

Turns out, Joe had also been a victim of grief, not the hypnotic noise of the ball. His eyes were fixated on a message scribbled out with amassed grains of stone and sand, rereading it, but never truly believing what it meant.

**He's mine.**

I staggered to my knees and fell forward, instinctively catching myself with opened palms. Dark spots of tears spattered to the ground like mini craters. Part of me was trying to convince itself that I shouldn't be wasting precious body fluids on that boy, most likely the Shadow Voice dripping into my thoughts. It was becoming harder to catch its appearence lately; more than once I found myself thinking ugly thoughts with only a common chill to hint any trace of that alter ego lurking near. How hollow and empty I felt... I was surprised I had the ability to even cry. It frustrated me. _Stop crying! Stop crying, god dammit! This won't solve a thing. Listen to me. Listen._

But I wouldn't. I wanted to smash things. I wanted to share my pain and sorrow with everyone and everything around me. Especially Adrian. That teenager couldn't have been a few months older than Marc. _And he has complete control of him now. _Oh how much I wish I was a human...then I could punch and kick and scream at the boy, make him understand how I felt. Make him _bleed. _It was personal irony, because more often then once I'd find myself regreting the animal species I was cursed to, back when I wasn't aware of how precious our position on the food chain and animal dominance really was. The spiteful 'be careful what you wish for' moral floated into my mind. It only rekindled my frustration and fear.

"We have to... get him...back." I said shakily, trying to stand up straight. However, my limbs wouldn't cooperate. Grief held them rooted to the spot.

"And while we're here, lets try and find one of Adrian's strands of hair in the dark. Think Jade! What are the chances of ever seeing them again?" Joe cried, covering his face with his hands. He recoiled at the texture of his brutish arms, and after a short pause, brought them down hard against the cave floor. "I hate this body! I hate this cave! This whole world can rot in hell!"

Jill and I forced ourselves to watch as he crumbled to the ground, repeatedly slamming his fists till they bled. Joe would curl into a sobbing heap at one moment, scream and swear at himself the next. This was a good example of what I was bottling up inside, instead of taking the noisier, healthy option like the younger one. This fit continued for a few minutes more until he dizzily calmed, panting from the sudden energy depletion.

"I'm sorry." He wheezed, stubborn tears gathering at the lower tip of his chin. "It's just- he's really... Marc was caught by an abusive trainer. My brother. I won't see my brother ever again."

"That's not true, Joe..." Jill tried to comfort him, but the sadness in her own voice gave her away. We all knew that the chances of finding Marc were slim to none. I wasn't even sure I wanted to see him again if he'd been caught by someone like Adrian.

"It is and you know it. Don't you dare lie to me." Joe hissed, turning his back on us. His face was once again resting within his hands, sobbing quietly. If I wasn't just as sad and miserable as Jill and Joe, I'd have lightly reminded them that crying our hearts out wouldn't bring Marc back here like some miracle ending of some fairy tale. Oh, no. This was quite the opposite of a fairy tale.

So, we sat and wept, wasting the minutes away that could have been spent tracking down Adrian. Every tear shed was a relief effort of all the string of tragedies that seemed to hover over us. This happening in the first place, the weedle sting dilema, the terrifying battle against Falkner's hawks... Yeah, I think it was about time we got a few tears in our busy schedule. Hey, you would have done the same thing.

After what had just happened, one thing was for certain: we couldn't do this alone. We simply couldn't make it all the way to Ecruteak when a simple cave hike had narrowed our leaderless pack down to three, even if the type differences were evenly balanced out. The rest of the journey ahead might hold trainers worse off than Adrian, who had only caught Marc because of extremely unlucky circumstances. Or, from his point of view, extremely lucky. For now. At least until we crossed paths for the final time.

"I feel so...lonely." I sniffed, curling up closer next to Jill. She was the only family I had any hope of coming in contact with for the rest of my screwed up life. It made my heart swell just thinking of how lucky I was to have my twin be here with me, and how dreadful it was for Josef. Even if he didn't share the sacred bond Jill and I did, the boy had spent his whole _life _looking up to his big brother. The bitter hollowness of losing his older sibling was painfully fresh in ours minds as well, but at least she was missing somewhere on our Earth. Not this wicked place of seperation and deadly fights.

Jill placed a heavy vine over my shoulder, and this time I didn't push it away. I really needed the comfort. It was scaring me how easily the legendaries could have taken only one of us and tossed us into this world. Alone. Not a single being to know who you are, where you came from. The only one would be your pokémon parent, obviously never to see you unhatched thanks to the cruelty of man and his selective breeding. The fright was bad enough to only have two others with me. What if they were taken away from me too? No way in hell.

"You'd better get used to being lonely, Jade. I don't think we can do this anymore... It's too much! We could die here." My twin's voice began to crack, joining Joe and I in our faltering of this heavy burden. There was just so much that one girl could take.

"We need friends." Came my more confident advice. I tried to stand again, and found that I could. "Omri and any other center nurses are out of the question. Even if they're nice, they aren't the type to leave their home towns.

"Now think hard you guys. Who can we trust to tell about this? Who from here can we tell we're really human from a different world without getting sent to some crazy asylum for pokémon?" I asked seriously, looking up into each of their eyes. My voice took a softer, more desperate tone. "Who can be our friend?"

The answer was in our hearts, screaming from within to say it. There was only one person in his universe that even had a chance of believing this tale, and he was _human_. Even if saying so would be walking right into the dream and the ruin message hands, all three of us answered simultaneously.

"Meeko."

-scene change-

Meeko. I doubt you remember that boy. He was the reason we escaped from the lab in one piece. Of all the humans who watched but didn't care, prodded but didn't apoligize, tested but didn't reward, Meeko was the only one who knew we had feelings. His attitude towards humans was pleasurably memorable, having more respect for 'animals' than he did his own species. And here we were, hoping on hope that his pace was as slow as ours just so we could tell him that we were humans too.

We'd only just got out of Union cave and into a grassy expanse of a field bustling with wildlife beneath the waves of yellow grass. The time was a couple hours after noon, judging by the sun's position blaring in our faces. I drank it in greedily, unsure of when we'd once again be forced to trek blindly through the dark. It was a lot sooner than I thought.

The walk to Azalea town was so short, that after rounding a turn north, the small cluster of buildings were already in sight. It could hardly be considered a town; simply made up of two hospitals (one for humans, the other for pokémon) , a shop, the gym, and a few houses where brave residents dared settle down in. Ilex forest loomed over them all ominously, as silent and still as a predator crouched down, ready to pounce on its prey of timber and glass.

Trotting on all fours to keep up, I scuffled my nose over the ground busily, trying with difficulty to sort out the myriad assortment of smells. So many of them! They overlapped each other in an invisible stack in my nose, the freshest of the scents piled on the top. Which of these was Meeko? It was so long ago... and I didn't recall ever picking up his individual scent before the confusion of escape.

"Can't we ever get a break?" I complained to no one, giving up my search half heartedly. Beside me, a well with discolored bricks towered above at about torso length by human standards, the ladder snaking over it coated in red rust. Oddly enough, there was no bucket hanging over the hole. This well wasn't used for a water supply. But if not... what?

As if to try and answer my question, a chilling moan slithered from the well, fading off as its owner's strength wilted. It was clearly human, scratchy from age and pain. A draft from in the stony depths sent forth a flurry of scents made up of human, blood, pokémon, the smell of a recently shot gun bullet...

"Apparently not," said Jill. She turned right and walked in front of the well, looking up the ladder curiously. None of the fear I was experiencing reflected in her eyes, reminding me of such numerous cowardice behavior on my part in the recent past.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not going." I stated crossly, standing on my hind legs. It seemed almost like a secret rule now. Where one went, so did the other, majority ruling. Sadly, this policy only proved to me a disadvantage, since even Joe, lacking more bravery than I, walked over stand started his slow climb up the ladder.

"Could find Marc in there..." He mumbled what I thought was an apology when I followed suit. Being too small for the bars, Joe merely picked me up by a fading scuff and tossed me lightly to the top of the well's enterance.

I dared lean forward to take a quick peak down the hole. As unreliable as my eyesight was, I knew that without Joe's tail, we'd be descending on yet another rusty ladder blind.

Down... We'd be going down that hellhole. A forgotten fear of the dark bubbled to the surface. I could have sworn the blackness was reaching out for me in the sunlight, closer and closer...until I realized I was actually falling. The brick walls shot up and over me as I lost full balence, veiling the welcoming sun from view. Jill's vines cracked like a whip, she unsheathed them so swiftly, and reached down after me, chafing against the well's side. I held in my screaming with difficulty, knowing that if I did, fear would take over.

Slowly at first, then with rapid quickness, I began spinning in the air. I could see endless dark, the circle of light above me with Jill's vines still following, the dark outline of the rusted ladder hugging one side of the well... Hands outstretched, I groped for the bars, concentrating on grabbing one when I was right side up. Instead, the momentum of it leaned my body towards the ladder, and I bounced heavily off of it into the circular wall opposite, hopelessly far from my goal.

It was when the end of my fall came into view that I readied to scream, amazed at how only seconds ago, I was calm and unaware that I'd be plunging down a one way route to the bottom of the well. With a soft thud, I landed on what felt like two couch cushions full of fluff and spring coils on the verge of poking out of the fabric. There was only a mild back ache where the ladder had hit me full force, so the cry of agony I heard didn't come from my own mouth. The cushion beneath me tried to relent the weight it was taking, and so I scrambled off in a hurry, darting behind the nearest stalagmite.

I focused my eyes on the crumpled thing I'd landed on, scanning the distorted lower half that had broken my fall. Bringing a hand up to my mouth, I stifled a gasp. Legs. Useless, broken human legs attatched to the feeble body of an elderly man. The hair atop his head had been absent for years now I guessed, but thick gray side burns reaching just above the neck made up for what his scalp lacked. Both alarmingly bulkish arms pressed against his left shin, gushing blood from an injury he was covering up. He craned his neck in my direction, his face twisted and eyes streaming tears of pain.

"Puh...please..." His old voice sounded strangled. He reached out to me with his blood smeared, work scarred hands, revealing his wound. His shin bone, the tibia, had broken at the middle, and stuck out of skin from below. "H-help me..."

Joe, in his mad rush to 'save' me, skipped the last few bars of the ladder, landing clumsily on one knee and one steady foot. His action drew both the human's and my attention towards him, and I almost expected him to scurry back up and out of the well at such a gruesome sight. Jill came into view, vines gripping something too high up for me to see, and edged her way down until she landed neatly on the cave floor. She screwed up a face at the pitiful scene, and made quite a show of walking around the writhing man's heap and deeper into the tunnel beyond. Reluctantly- for we had no other choice- Joe and I ran after her, trying to block out the man's desperate pleas.

"How did that happen..." I asked numbly, picturing the free fall in my mind. "If he'd slipped down the well, it would be his back he hurt, not his legs. On a human scale, that couldn't be more than six feet of a fall. Not much."

Neither had the answer. I looked back at the old man, lying still in hopeless defeat. He was whispering what sounded like "my little girl..." and "Grandaughter...", before he gave a small tremor and fell silent, mercifully unconscious.

"What ever did that..." Jill began, another witness to see the man passing out. "...did it on purpose."

I wasn't listening at all, but to Joe the words hung over him like a rain cloud foreboding misfortune. He tried to nudge me, but I shushed him sharply, swerving my ears deeper into the cave. They tensed, trying to hear what was deaf to them. It was so far away to hear, but... Someone was shouting orders, a young human voice, until a layer of deeper voices swallowed it up. Young voice gave a low groan, followed by the thud of it crumpling to the ground. Barking laughter from the deepers, and then a pokémon cry of anguish audible for even Joe and Jill to catch.

"Meeko!"

The sound of a gun shot instantly after, missing, ricocheting off the cave walls. Then... silence.

Even with no fire as a guide, I pelted towards the concluding fight scene, praying that the quiet wasn't brought out by a silenced bullet. The bottoms of my feet and palms screamed in response to the countless shards of rock underfoot. In under a minute of tireless sprinting, I reached a lit cavern where the fighting had taken place, Jill and Joe pausing beside me shortly after.

Blinding lights were nailed to the cave walls in a circle around the entire cavern, all connected by a single wire that lead down another passage. A couple of steely eyed men stood vigil on each side of it, pistols holstered. They, like the other men and women lurking about down the paths they stood over, wore black uniforms with a blazing red R in the middle. Same ridiculous outfits, completely different danger level. Bound at the wrist and beaten, Meeko lay motionless on the cave floor, as if he were an example for us to steer clear of them. His totodile was in a similar state next to him, his restraints dyed blood brown. One young man knelt over Meeko, acne-recovering face telling me he hadn't even hit the twenties yet, pressing a hand gun to the back of his head. Sweat rolled down the side of the helpless boy's face. _He's awake._

"Little bastard put up a fight in the end. Too bad 'e couldn't 'andle that rock to his 'ead." The member chortled, thrusting the tip of his gun into Meeko's throbbing skull. His index finger wavered over the trigger, debating whether or not he could retrieve his golden bullet after it went through his captive's head. To my relief, he pulled his gun away and sheathed it into its holder. "Oi, when are we leavin' this stink'ole, Leo? Place's givin' me the creeps knowin' that we'd be like cornered rats if the cop lady comes takin' a peek 'round 'ere with 'er crew."

A dark skinned Rocket guarding one of the cave passages narrowed his black eyes. "Patience, Keith. No matter how dumb they may be, the Slowpoke are hard to capture. And then there is the tail removing procedure... It all takes time."

Keith stood up straight, abnormally tall for his age. "But four hours? We've been 'ere since mornin' an' still no tip from the boss to pull out. Must've cut off a truck load of tails by now."

"Just think of your next pay."

"Yes... The paycheck." The restless grunt smiled dreamily and sat down against the right wall, crossing his arms. He had one more thing to ask before his dreams could be free of the hauntings of a prison cell. "What about the old man? You did kill him when he came in... Right Lex?"

The other path guard pondered this for a bit, scratching an itch on his scalp with his gun. "Well... he won't be walkin' any time soon. He'll be dead sooner or later."

Satisfied, Keith lowered his chin and closed his eyes. A few tense minutes, and he soon began to show sleeping behavior. Deep, rhythmic breaths, lack of eye movement beneath his lids... It was safe to think up a recue plan without the rash decision maker awake.

"Looks like we've got an audience." Lex pointed towards us with his gun casually, looking over at Leo. He cocked it with his thumb. "Think they're worth the entertainment of a coupla rounds wasted?"

"You wish to wake the boy?"

"Good point." Shrugging, the firearms enthusiast turned to looked back at the trio of wilds. "Hey, there were three of 'em there before... where'd the little one go?"

Right on cue, I buried my fangs deep into the single cable wire connecting all the lights by Leo's feet. At once the displaced energy channeled into me, plaguing the rest of the room into shadow. Joe's tail bounded franticly about inside the cave, pursued by a rainfall of bullets. Also aglow, I searched for a possible spot to muffle the electric charges shooting effortlessly from my cheeks.

"Kill the little beasts!"

Oh, but I felt so powerful... Let them come with their bullets. They would merely fall in place in response to my new power. If only things worked out that way. I heard the sound of something metal breaking in two, and then a high pitched whine too close to my head for comfort.

A glint of yellow shined off the gold bullet as it came within range of my electricity. It came so fast, carrying pain inside the shell delivered personally for me. The pain was dropped off in my upper ear, coating the tag below it in sticky blood. I could feel the bullet cutting clean through fur, skin, and cartilage alike, burrowing into the wall behind me. Such a small thing had the strength to pass right through my ear. **_Imagine a fatal shot. _**Confidence withered, I banked sharply to my right, regreting having gotten involved at all. A living beacon, I was, but had also volunteered to be one of the living bullseyes.

Relying on memory alone, I dove for what I believed to be where we'd come in, expecting any moment for another one of the gun's bite to nip my spine. My guessed proved accurate of the route for escape, and I gave a cry of success. It lay wedged in my throat, evolving into one of fright. The end of a gun barrel stared me in the face, Keith's own twisted mien dancing in my glow of energy. By looking up, I disturbed my ear, sodden and heavy in blood not yet absorbed. The stray liquid spattered in my eyes. Blind. Blind to the death in front of me. My fear prevented me from instinctive attacks.

"You took our lights from us. Now I'm takin' yours." Keith laughed cruely, cocking his gun.

What happened next caught both of us completely off guard. I heard the thundering of feet, a vicious growl and the short, strangled scream emitting from the young rocket member. I scratched at my eyes to be rid of the bloody blindfold, but a clawed hand slowly lowered them to their sides. The next time the hand touched my face, it was dripping water. Instantly, the red sheet dissolved into the liquid, giving me back the eyesight it so rudely stole away.

"Marc..?" I widened my eyes up at the bruised totodile, searching his eyes for the trademark green. They did glisten a sickly pale olive, but only from the glare of my light.

"Damion, but close enough. Come on." Damion, our prophecy's betrayer, bent down and grasped my small hand, limping wildly for the exit. I did my best to keep up without dragging my feet, unable to match his long strides with only two legs to assist me. In my dying light I saw blood that was neither of ours drying on his claws.

"Wh...what about Meeko? You're just going to leave him?" I found my lost voice, looking over my shoulder at the fray behind us. Joe's tail flame danced in the dark, a positive sign that none of the bullets had yet made their mark. It was only a matter of time before his luck ran out.

"It's either give my help to a teenager or a toddler. Your choice." He grunted, breathing in through his mouth for tastes of fresh air. "But trust me, if you weren't so young and helpless I'd be at his side right about now."

"'Helpless'? Exuse me?" With little success, I dug my heels into the ground to stop. The totodile faltered and swerved his head back at me impatiently. "Who was it that shut off those lights?"

"It could have been done just as easily with a carefully placed claw. The only difference I see is the danger you put yourself in after. Stay put here." The reptile scolded. Damion stumbled over the old man's right arm, jarring both of us painfully into the rusty ladder. He swore savagely, releasing his hold on me and tending to his smarting snout. His eyes, leaking uncontrolled tears, narrowed into slits when he saw me inching my way back to the fight. "May the legendaries smile down on your unfortunate mother. Don't you ever do as your told?"

I scoffed, turning my back on him. "Yeah, when I was eight years old, maybe." Finally, the raw electricity ran dry. Our visions blackened, with only the small circle of sunlight filtering down the well's mouth as a source of sight. Before he could question me further, I was scampering back to the noises, ramming into cave walls with a small squeak before shaking my senses back and trekking onward.

The first thing I noticed when I returned was Joe's tail flame, stock still in one corner. It was blazing bright enough to tell me he was in good health, but probably being held at gunpoint by this large shadow hovering over him. Any second his unknown gunman would pull the trigger...

_Thwack!_

Skull cracked like a dinner plates, the shadow fell senseless to the ground only for another leaner one to take its place. Meeko's figure held out his hand for Joe, who took it with trembling fingers. Another shadow I recognized at once to be Jill ran by me, sobbing in my ear as she flew by. "There are more! With guns! Oh god, we're gonna die..."

Even as she said this, I heard the static of a walkie talkie conversation shouting urgent orders.

"Kill the boy! There can't be any witnesses! ...What? Shoot them only if they get in your way... We don't want another case like Keith's on our hands."

Meeko, dragging Joe by one arm, nearly barreled into me had I not rolled out of his way in time. Beams from distant flashlights searched hungrily along the pathway, bathing us three in light I'd be ready in a moment to absorb. It's shadowed holder was in dangerously close range. Bullet range. I saw her arm smoothly withdrawing a hand gun, aiming at Meeko's back. With aim so true, there would be no escaping the bullet's fatal path.

Many things happened at once. Naturally, I screamed as if the devil himself were pursuing at my heels. Then, startled by the noise, the gunner turned in my direction, her gun lurching upward a precious fragment. When sparks began to spurt from my cheeks, she impulsively pulled the trigger, shining the flashlight in my eyes. Meeko howled his painfuly displeasure of the bullet, his noisy strides only weakened by a heavier limp than previously. There wasn't enough blood spilt for me to detect with my nose, so I assumed he was in good health.

"Bloody little insect. Die!" She cocked her gun, and took aim. It amazed both of us that the little insect had turned tail and ran so swiftly out of sight in the short time it took. The member shouted out a swear even I- having lived under such a short tempered family all my life- didn't know the meaning of.

"Jade, where are you?" Jill yelled from up ahead. I made a soft turn to the right, running towards the exit. Half of Meeko's body was already gone, climbing the ladder with Joe not far behind. Damion had most likely been recalled to save the little time we had.

Without a warning, Jill clutched me in her vines, unfurling them to their limit until I hovered beside Meeko. He gave a quick glance at me and reached out, placing me on his shoulder. Meeko continued on, blood oozing from a fresh wound near his elbow every time he ascended another step. This, no doubt, was where he was scathed by the gun.

When he hurled himself out of the well's throat, it instantly spit out bullets after him, soaring into the sky. I jumped from my perch to the rim of the well, reluctantly looking down it to see if the other two were coming. As frightened as they were, they seemed unharmed for the moment. Jill's vines clung to one of the first upper steps unyieldingly, used not unlike a type of harness mountain side climbers wore.

Joe held out his hand for me, which I took with both of my own. Seeing this, Meeko took my place and pulled Joe out, hastily retrieving the pair of Jill's vines once he put Joe on the ground. Neither of us bothered watching to make sure Jill and Meeko got out safely. I shot for the tall grass opposite the well, closing my eyes and lowering myself until the ground brushed against my stomach. Through the fan of vegitation, I saw Meeko shouting into his cell phone at whom I thought were the local authorities. Since we were so close to the town, wailing police cruisers and a couple of ambulences arrived within a minute of the phone call.

Not want to reenact the firefighter capture at Violet, Jill and Joe dove for my safe haven, settling down next to me. Meeko watched them leave almost sadly, broken from his trance when a paramedic started inspecting his arm and the back of his head. Armed men huddled around the well in a circle, reaching in and pulling out a kicking, screaming female rocket member. They extracted her gun, pinning her to the ground with handcuffs at the ready. The remaining unoccupied policemen pointed their own weapons and flashlights down the well's entrance, shouting at a hidden target to drop his weapon.

It was downright chaotic.

"Instead of prodding me with your needles, how about you get busy helping that old man down there in the well?" Meeko's snappish remark sent his perimedic scurrying over to the police line, leaving the wounded youth some peace. He treaded to our hidding place, slowing down in front of me so all I could see were his filthy shoes.

"You bunch are in here somewhere, listening right now. There's more to you guys than just a smart brain, I know that much..." Meeko dropped to his knees, parting the grass in front of us. Staring up at him, we all held an unatural intelligence in our eyes that could never be compared to that of our species. He could see it, bright as day. "I think it's about time I learned what's really going on."


	14. Waterburn

Last Week..._ The search for Marc continues as the crestfallen trio escape the cave and advance on the nearest town.All three have agreed that they need to tell Meeko of their dilema, otherwise they would soon find themselvesfacing the same fate as Marc. As they are passing by a seemingly innocent well, they hear a chilling human moan below and cannot stop themselves from going down its rusty ladder. __Once down,they trek deeper into the well, only to find that Team Rocket has taken temporary refuge within, andwere holding a bound and beaten Meeko. After coming face to face with gun barrels and Damion, Meeko's pokémon, they manage to escape. But, oneitching question remains:What ever happened to Marc?_

Currently Injured: Jade, suffering from gunshot wound on ear. Status is Mild Discomfort.

Author's Note: I realized to keep my reader's attention, I have to shorten my chapters a bit. Hope you don't mind! -' This chapter will be fairly small, since its only showing what Marc has become priar to capture. There might be other passages like this, but they'll be short and connected by oo00oo'sto normal chapters coming from Jade's POV. Oh, and the end is NOT A TYPO. Have fun!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Waterburn**

_Who...who am I? _The Slave.

_What happened? _It matters not.

_Alright... _The Slave fell silent. Nothing else was to be said.

The Slave was in nothing, had become nothing, and had yet to be anything different. He was forever lost in the dark, searching for something bodily to grasp. His mind was forever lost in the dark, an incomplete puzzle never destined to be finished. Everything of him was forever lost to the dark. Well, almost everything.

What was this? Arms, a torso, strong swimmer's legs, glistening its teal reflection of a thousand plates of armored scales. Claws, dripping the tainted blood of long dead victims. Fangs, quivering from an untamed mighty jaw bone. Muscle, stretching firm under simple will alone. This was what the Slave was. A prophet of death doing as his Master commanded.

Who his Master was, the Slave knew not. It was more of a restraining thought, like a dew drop of honey spreading over his brain. If he tried to think of anything else, it would reel him back into its sticky clutches. The feeling was suffocating.

You must obey.

You _must_ obey to your Master's wishes.

He agreed heartedly for the main reason that he could do no else but this. Agree and obey, and maybe the nothingness would flee.

What is your name? _The Slave. _Even as the Slave replied, he knew it was a lie. He did have a name many, many lifetimes ago...started with an M, he guessed. _Agree and obey..._

What happened? _It matter's not... _Yes, it did matter. What happened was the curtain draping over his thoughts, the skeleton key that opened the gate to life of a heartbeat, of a body, and a soul. _Agree and obey..._

The nothing tired him. The Slave grew restless, eager for a hunt. His power paced in a tense orbit within his body, impatient to unleash it. To bite. To claw. To kill as Master commanded. _Agree and obey..._

_Yes! Agree and obey!_

Say it.

"Agree and obey!" He could feel the words bubbling hot from his being, escaping threw his mouth in a guttural bellow. And the darkness fleeted into oblivion.

The Slave relished the feeling of a warm breeze tracing over his scales. The soles of his feet stung from summer's dehydrated grass. Sunlight, actual sunlight seeped beneath his eyelids. The Slave lifted them slowly, squinting under the sun's rays. His eyes lacked their true unique green color. They were a dark steel coloration, related to the thick gray mud a heavy rain brings out from the dry, clammy soil. Strangely beautiful. The Slave knew a great change had taken place, and concluded that it was for the best. That was the same instant Master kicked him clean off his feet.

The Slave hadn't forgotten everything. Pain and agony were feelings he could remember clearly...as a flaming boulder burning cold in his middle chest from an old wound. The anger that used to cloud his mind at such a time like this was but a small stormcloud floating away in the distance.

Grunting from the effort, the totodile hoisted himself up from his back into a sitting position. He looked up weakly. The eyes of Slave and Master locked.

Master had a long mantle of red hair that stopped unevenly at his shoulders. His black coat shined a bright silver in the sunlight bouncing off his zippers. The boot that kicked him matched its jacket partner, but it bared a shiny metal point melded at the tip that didn't seem to catch any light to reflect. When Master spoke, it was brittle, like ice, as if it would shatter and evolve into berating screams when its owner was angered enough.

"You're going to love being my slave... I'll make sure of it."

The Slave promptly decided that he would indeed agree and obey Master...but also hate the boy with a blazing passion. Such hatred could be put aside for later, though. There was killing to be done! Power to be tested! He snarled his mounting athirst at Master with a spark of his former personality, and received another crippling blow to his tender stomach for the forbidden defiance.

The Slave keeled over, gasping, gagging, pressing into a small cut seared about an inch wide across his torso. It was one of the many he would obtain. He had hardly recovered from the second hit when the steel tipped boot attacked again, this time jarring into the scales on his side. The Slave rolled over in the dust many times before halting on his back. A bruise formed at once where the tip struck, throbbing in rythym to his rapid heartbeat. He curled into a defensive ball, tensed for a third strike, and when it didn't come, peeked out from under his arm's arch.

"Make another noise like that and I'll break your jaw to silence you." Master smirked his satisfaction when the heap of a pokémon was as quiet as the grave.

"If I ever see the color in your eyes, I'll cut them out myself." The Slave kept his snout to the ground.

"Think of attacking me and your life is mine." Master didn't sound like he was joking when he said this. The Slave agreed and obeyed, the shackles of terror clipped heavy on his wrists.

Master pulled out one of his pokéballs, enlarging it and carelessly tossing the machine to the ground. It released a weary-eyed cyndaquill, the fresh cuts on his body starting to bleed anew now that he had a body and blood to spill. He lay still on the ground, breathing deeply through a massive wall of pain in his chest. Blue bruises were desguised among his azure skin.

The pitiful creature hardly had the strength to stand on his hind legs and turn to stare at the grass. He saw the water lizard and glared at him under the impression that they had met once before with the ugly rift of an everlasting grudge, even if the Slave took the stranger as another one of his kind who agreed and obeyed. This must have been the fate of one who refused to obey. The Slave almost swallowed loudly, but caught himself, restraining his fear into silence.

Master dipped his head, his boot still. "You learn quicker than this one. Come on...and Blaze, try to keep up." As he turned down the grassy route, passing by the old Slowpoke well for the second time that afternoon, he paused. "That remind me. You still need a name."

The Slave dragged his gaze to the dirt road to keep from looking up at Master in puzzlement. Wasn't his name Slave?

"You'll be called...Waterburn. You understand that?" Master growled, continuing on his way now that that simple task was over and done with.

Waterburn lingered behind, waiting for this other Slave to catch up. He knew it was a risk of doing so without getting away pain free, but he couldn't help sympathizing for this one. When Blaze dragged himself forward next to the totodile, he gave a small cry and collapsed to the ground.

"Adrian should be thanking me!" The pokémon hissed in distress, eyes burning. "This is all your fault."

"Who's Adrian?" Waterburn asked, ignoring the unfair accusation that this creature blamed him for its misfortunes.

Blaze staggered upright and turned his head at Waterburn, hunched over to blot out some of his mid-section pains. "You really don't remember a thing, do you? You're mind is empty, right?" He didn't wait for an answer, his eyes flickering to the shadows of his lost past. "Yeah, I remember that feeling. I was so innocent up to when I first met you."

"We've never..." The new Slave trailed off, inhaling sharp scents that danced along his tongue. They were other pokémon, not native to the common types living around this route, maybe three of them that stuck out. He sniffed the air, sensing the mental fog starting to clear. A small blotch of yellow, a bulky smudge of green, and a nervous orange creature that shared his blood...

Perhaps if Waterburn had been left alone long enough, he would have remembered his original human name, or possibly even the identities of these three he had never laid eyes on before. Perhaps if Master hadn't noticed the absence of his two slaves so soon, the totodile would have run off into the well and reunited with his friends and brother, and they could continue the quest for their bodies as a quad instead of a lonely trio. Perhaps.

Master recalled Blaze a couple yards away from them both, glaring icily at his newcomer that had so very much to learn. "Just be lucky your new." The boy snarled, turning around. Waterburn scuddled after him like a living shadow, eyes fixated on the blades of grass his Master's shadow passed over. When they stopped walking, he looked around him, taking a half step forward in anticipation for this easy kill. Union cave watched the small throng of Mareep as if it was the dark eye of the mountain side.

Waterburn squinted his eyes for a better view of the sheep, not that it did any better for him. Their fleeces were like a swirling yellow mist attached to leg and face skin that matched the color of blue flames. They had low placed ears and a tail curling upward with the classic bumble bee stripe pattern, ending with either a bright red ball for a tail tip or a pale lemon. A sea of beady eyes darted nervously at the human and pokémon intruder.

Master pushed Waterburn forward towards the group. The cold steel prodding into his back scales sent unpleasant tremors of fear through him. "Shepard like a Growlithe, slaughter like an Arcanine. You let any escape and you'll end up like Blaze. "

Obediently, he bent down on fours and barreled after them. At first sight of the threat, one bleated out a warning, and they all scattered in different directions, save for a mother and its youngling. He could smell blood dripping from a hidden wound beneath the smaller's inner coat, and suddenly his own blood was pounding in the veins of his fingertips. The mother, seeing Waterburn, stood ground to protect her young, who was terror stricken into place.

"Touch son and die! Die Swimmer!" The female shrieked, white lines of electricity burying into the ground around her. The burned grass curled in agony, instantly dyed soot black.

The swimmer took no notice of her, digging his front arms into the ground to leap the last yard at the toddler. He pinned the mareep to the ground, harmless flecks of electricity snapping at skin touching the silk fleece. Waterburn tore away at the fleece guarding his neck and sank his fangs into his throat, all of this happening before the distraught mother could do a thing to stop it. He cried out desperate pleas for the stunned mother, but the fatal bite drew far too much sweet, sweet blood... Eventually they died off, with his unsteady heartbeat soon to follow. Waterburn took on a gruesome image of Marc as he lifted his blood smeared muzzle, growling eagerly at his next victim.

It suddenly felt as if someone had creeped up on Waterburn and hit his back with a metal bat. He flew forward at the female's feet, waist down shaking involuntarily in spasms of energized pain. She screeched in sorrowful rage, summoning her own electric attack and jaggedly watched as the bolt zig-zagged its way to the side of his neck. The intruder screamed, propelled to her right, where a lingering member of the herd brought forth its own electric attack, sending him rolling in range of yet another member to electrocute. They quickly formed a ring around Waterburn, perilously continuing their technique until each ran out of power to contribute. At this point the creature was convulsing on the ground, eyes rolling, mouth agape in a scream that could not be released. He clawed at the ground, disturbing clumps of grass they could have used for good food. His heart rate was nearly tripled its normal speed, threatening to burst out of his lungs, chest, and beyond.

"Swimmer's life repays for Lumi's." Stated one, backing out of the circle. "It'll die with just one more good shot near the life pumper."

The remaining of them, exhausted from the brief torture, dispersed and crowded around the dead son. Instead of crying- after all, sheep had no tears to shed- they illuminated the spheres on their tails to gentle soft glows. The field twinkled in the golden radiance. To a witness, such as Master, this beauty was cut short. One by one, the shimmering forms dimmed and blossomed into a bloody red. The human smiled. There was no need to teach Waterburn how to kill.

"Killed my son!" The now motherless sheep wailed at Waterburn as he pounced on her side. Around her, three Mareep lay mortally stricken on the ground, baying their agony in a tongue only her species could decode. The coats they were so proud of before stuck heavy against their skin, soaked in blood. It enraged her at the sight of it.

Like a small explosion igniting inside his mouth, Waterburn was blown on his back, making the mistake of biting away at the conducting coat. She bounded after him with a cold vengence flickering behind expressionless eyes. Once glowering over the writhing body, she reared back, orange bolts of electricity crackling from the red sphere and into Waterburn's chest. He bucked once, twice, and then lay still, despite the residue of the attack still stabbing at his body. The grass around him, as blackened as his singed scales, dissolved in the field's breeze. All was eerily quiet.

None had the heart to grieve for the unlucky three that were a victim to the Swimmer's onslaught while they were still alive. It would be a while before death claimed them, unless some pretator heard their cries and was stalking through the grass at that very moment. The flock couldn't stay long and risk more death.

Worries of an attack in the future were the least of their problems. They turned away from Waterburn's failing body, aside from the mother. She sat leaning over her baby, nudging him, urging Lumi to rise from a sleep he would never wake. It didn't phase her the slightest when she saw her shadow pulse at the mercy of a brilliant white light...

The light died, and a shadow lumbered over and blocked part of her from the sun. She felt claws cut through her throat, death catching up to her before the pain. Mother fell to her knees over child, her own blood mixing with his.

Like an assassin, Waterburn glided after the remaining five, baring all forty-eight of his curved fangs. Energy coursed through him insanely, and he charged at the nearest target. His teeth were a pearly white when they torn at the Mareep. This needed to change.

Master watched this all pleasantly from farther off, clearly satisfied with his new pokémon. He crossed his arms as each Mareep crumbled into a bloody heap before his invincible Waterburn.

Quiet at first, then growing alarmingly loud, screaming sirens turned Master's attention in the well's direction, catching sight of a dark haired boy he knew all too well. It was after his first fight with Waterburn when they met up, and he was nearly caught by the police because of this scum bag. It was also Blaze's second defeat against the claws of another totodile. Seeing his pokémon finish off the final two opponents still able to fight, Master debated whether or not he would demand a rematch. The police cruisers answered his question for him. No, this type of revenge didn't include the authorities...

Master shrugged his shoulders airily and looked back at the field. Trails of blood told him that Waterburn had done as he was told: to herd like a Growlithe, and let none escape. However, the other command lay unchecked. He hadn't slaughtered like an Arcanine. His new croconaw had killed like the devil.


	15. Dark One and Lost One

Previously on The Changlings... _Oh boy, where were we again? Oh right,it turns out that beforethe trio rescued Meeko and Damion from Team Rocket, Marc had been fighting with his inner demons...and lost. He was released from his pokéball by Adrian (known to Marc as Master), and given a new name: Waterburn.After some...'persuading', one word from Adrian, and Waterburn was battling against an entire flock of mareep. Amazingly, he won._

Currently Injuried: Meeko, suffering from a bullet wound that grazed his right elbow, and mild concussion. Jade, suffering from bullet wound through upper ear. Status is Mild Discomfort for both.

Author's Note: That's right, Coldfire's come back from the dead! Please don't be mad at me for not updating for uh...two months (?), thinking that I've given up on the story. Trust me on this guys: If I had given up, I'd tell you all that. As if my updates weren't slow enough, I'm getting ready to make a quick move to my godmother's house (this one has a computer, and SPELL CHECK!). I'm not sure when the computer's getting unplugged, or if this shift of houses will slow down, or speed up chapter production. Last year, I was on it a _lot_. Hopefully it will be the same this year. Oh, and about the chapter: Bleh. I don't like it very much at all, and it d r a g g e d on forever. Very much like this author's note. Try to enjoy!

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**Chapter Firteen: Dark One and Lost One**

The sun was still making its steady journey across the mid afternoon sky when we scribbled into loose dirt the last of our farfetched tale. Fingers were blackened and eyes were wet by the time we had finished, rubbing sore finger joints and trying to read the worry lines between Meeko's brows. He brought a hand up to his face, reveling in its sweaty, cool touch against a forehead that shouted for an ice pack. When he slid it back down into place, his eyes were dazed and hopelessly tired.

"This is a joke or something. Humans can't be turned into..." Meeko stood up groggily, shaking his head in disbelief. He looked around him wildly, as if fearing that a demonized legendary would appear before him and changed his species as well. Only the cage of a yellow police line greeted his stare.

His head reeling, Meeko took a few steps backwards, stumbling over his own rickety feet. I was shocked into wordless silence at how badly he was taking this. In my mind, he was smiling cleverly and thinking up some heroic way of getting Marc back for us. It seemed this was the least of his problems. "You were never humans." The calm way he said that stung worse than any bullet wound in my ear. "I should have never helped you out of that lab. You're crazy."

"I thought we could trust you to think differently!" Jill wrote messily with her vines.

Meeko leaned over our message, scowling at the dirt. He tried smearing it away with his shoe, but they only faded slightly, like a scar. "Did you seriously think you could tell me all this without a bad reaction? Read out what you're telling me! You say you were humans and actually came from a place that doesn't have pokémon." To him or anyone else, it would be like a world without animals. "And to top it all off, you say it was just a kid show! A game! Books even! No, I can't listen to this and believe that me and everyone else are fictional characters. It's too much to take in."

I was berated with a wave of regret of what we had done. How stupid it was to think that a human, much less a budding teenage boy, could nod his head at this and roll it off. Being in his shoes, I'd be on the bridge of sanity, constantly wondering if my thoughts and actions were decided at the tip of a pencil point.

"Think of how we feel about this, Meeko. Imagine being one of us, or maybe even Marc. We need a friend in this universe that can help us get back to our home!" The word 'universe' I paused at, still unsure if indeed this was what it really was.

"Well then good luck with that. This is your home. There isn't an alternate world without pokémon." The bewildered boy sounded like this was only to reassure himself.

"Then how can you explain our intelligence? Our tattoos? None of us have drawing thumbs, and there's no reason for those lab employees to go around playing pictionary with our hands." We 'asked', each of us holding up our carving of the pokémon. I could tell by his thoughtful expression that we had voiced some of the questions he was acutely searching reasonable answers for.

"Need we say more? Or do you want me to write the Pythagorean theorem for you?" It was frustrating at how emotionless words were when you read them in your head. If I could somehow form English words with this rebel of a tongue, Meeko would be at the mercy of my trademark hate voice.

"...you may be from a different universe," Meeko sighed, clentching his fists until the skin leeched a ghost pale. "But you're insane if you think that means I won't treat you like every other human in this one on the way to Ecruteak."

Three pokémon jumped up and hugged him simultaneously.

-scene change-

After these last few weeks of...unhappiness, things were starting to look too well for us. We accepted this luck like feral animals to a saucer of food, highly aware that at any moment a net of misfortunes could entangle us it its web. Even so, for now we would quench the starvation and go along with it until something bad _did _eventually happen. A gloomy way of surviving, I know.

"The bodies of pokémon and the stomachs of humans, I swear." Meeko growled as we devoured the third helping of food from our plates. A late morning hung over the town, and we were ravenously hungry. Joe and I hadn't had a meal in a day, and since Jill refused to eat her share of the food yesterday morning, she was dizzy and weak. It hadn't helped any that we had to wait for Meeko to be administered out of the hospital overnight either.

Joe shrugged flukily up at Meeko, plucking the last of the brown food off the pewter plate and into his mouth. Bags stretched under the charmander's eyelids, as if lead weights had hung from them while he slept. His bloodshot eyes told us he had spent some of the night weeping over his brother, but we chose to keep silent about it so he wouldn't lose face.

Full stomachs gurgled their gratitude, purring like a content beast. The three of us climbed up the couch and curled into animal like poses, sleepily digesting the meal we would soon be regreting had gone away so quickly on our walk through the forest. There was a small knock on the hospital door that gently dragged me from my dozing. The tagged ear flicked towards the door, ready to take in any important noises while the rest of my body was seemingly unalert.

"Excuse me? I've come for the money from the pokémon feed you ordered... Is it alright if I open the door?" I wrinkled my nose at the delicate female voice. I hated the word 'feed' described as a proper meal for us. If it didn't look so suspicious, I would be eating normal human food.

"It's not like I don't have clothes on. Just take come in and take your money." Meeko called from the short table we dined at, stacking each silver plate atop the other.

The nurse opened the door slowly, so that with each inch of progress the hinges groaned in irritation. I could hear the couch creaking from the movement Jill and Joe made when they raised their heads. I did the same and opened my weary eyes.

The blonde spotted us and tightened her shoulders, thin lips pinched at the corners. She looked around her nervously, her shoulder length hair following in a slightly delayed fashion. A white name tag had minute red letters saying her name was Beverly. "The money, sir?"

Anger at her impatience flared beneath Meeko's muddy eyes as he handed her the three plates. On top of them lay the wad of bills, which she snatched up and counted carelessly before forcing a gentle smile, taking his burden. "Thank you, sir."

As much as it annoyed him, Meeko needed this Beverly for a little more yet. "Hey, you think you can tell me if some red head checked in?"

The nurse scowled at the memory. "Yes. Do you know her? That skimpy slut wouldn't know how to shop for a good dress even if _I _picked it out-

"I meant a boy. Long hair, leather jacket..." Meeko paused and looked at her strangely. I, meanwhile, was supressing scornful laughter. "Are you even a certified nurse? I feel bad for your patients."

Chances of a decent tip fled the room, and the timid young woman who first opened the door ran after it. It left behind a foul shadow. "For your information, I'm just here to rack up community service hours on my college resumé. As for the red head guy, yeah, I saw someone like that. What a bad boy..."

Joe seemed to forget that he couldn't speak with the nurse. He jumped down from the couch, nearly slipping under his feet as he did so, and ran to Beverly's feet. "Where is he now? Tell me!"

She uttered a disgusted shriek, kicking the reptile away. It took all her power to keep from dropping the food plates. "Eck! Vicious little brute!" With that, a red faced Beverly shuffled out through the door, slamming it shut as she walked briskly past. The room was quiet, thick with a silence that rang loudly in my ears.

"Nice job, Charmander." The boy sighed sarcastically. He wiped a hand over his face, as if this could smear away all of the stress piling up inside. "She was probably the only one oblivious enough to give me more private info, and you get all excited and scare her off. And you tell me you have a human's IQ."

Speechless, Joe stared down at the shaggy rug. "I liked him better when he thought we were pokémon." He said, sounding injured by both of the humans' harsh words.

I nodded my agreement, glaring up at the boy with all the anger these innocent angel eyes could muster. Meeko raised his eyebrows at my fruitless attempt and strode to the ivory door. He opened it and stepped sideways so we could pass, but I could sense that he'd done it out common curtesy instead of a kind gesture.

Part of me was revolted that I had once looked up to this boy with an attitude problem against the world. The rest regretted ever asking for his help, wishing some sort of misfortune upon him so he could no longer travel in our bothersome company. I wasn't sure which were the shadow voice's thoughts and my own.

**_"He didn't even say thanks for helping him yesterday. Typical human worm."_** It would take a fool not to recognize its strong presence in that after thought. Shivering from the internal cold, I smothered the hate in a cluster of thoughts that made my heart warm. This was how it worked everytime it spoke too strongly... I would feed it my happy memories, and the voice would pounce on them, tear at them, sear through them and taint with its coldness. In the end I would still have the cherished experiences, except minor things that angered me would suddenly come to understanding. In this case I was looking back on my eight or ninth birthday party. _That party was so fun... If only all of my friends didn't hang out with Jill the whole time. _It made me realize how sad and lonely I really was on that day.

"We aren't leaving this town just yet." Meeko explained, jerking me from my inner battles. "I may be tagging along until you three reach Ecruteak, but I'm also taking the region's gym challenge. You'll have to wait up for me if you care that much."

Jill shrugged, clumsily skipping a step in her subconscious efforts. She and I slowed down to match Joe's slower pace, flinching at the tender sunlight once we stepped outside.

The gym wasn't hard to find, since you could scan the majority of the town without moving as much as a few paces from the center's entrance. Exluding the human hospital, our target was the largest building in Azalea, adjacent to the gloomy gates of Ilex forest. Meeko put on his best intimidating glare when we stood outside the gym, which had about as much effect as my own earlier.

"The kid's name is Bugsy. Cute." He said wryly, looking over the sign describing the leader's bio. "It says here he's one of the youngest of the gym leaders, turning fifteen on his next birthday. A bug collector." Meeko chuckled while he read off the last part.

"So, from what I can remember in the games, this leader's not too hard." I concluded, looking up at Meeko even if he couldn't understand. "The only thing Meeko has to watch out for is his-

A battle going on inside the gym erupted into noise when two combatants collided into the wall. The plaster cracked and collapsed under the weight of them both, unveiling the noise makers. One was an agile treeko, reptilian golden eyes bulged out in fear, struggling against the lethal scythe of its foe. The lizard was on its back, a blade against its throat with only its two hands to keep defeat at bay. Blood seeped out of the cuts digging deeper into its fingers. The dragon mantis above it hardly looked fazed at all, in the way its right arm dangled unceremoniously at its side.

"Okay, okay, I give up! Just let Treezi go!" A girlish plea begged to the unseen Bugsy. The scyther, hearing her cries, calmly backed away from its foe.

Both were recalled by their trainers, and the young gym leader came into view, who to me looked quite apologetic. "Sorry about that. I think it's about time Lance retired from these battles..."

"No, it's fine, really... I'll be back for a rematch again tomorrow." The crest fallen brunette opened the door and gave Meeko a rueful glance once she saw the three of us loitering by his feet. "Save the fire type for last if you know what's good for you." She murmered quietly, and departed for the center. The thoughtful expression on Meeko's face was unsettling, especially when he directed it at Josef.

"Don't bother," I scribed busily. "He's fought one battle since hatching against, two spearow, and would've gotten skinned if the flock hadn't flown off."

"So, in other words, the charmander's a weakling." He said flatly.

Even if Bugsy hadn't poked his head out of the hole in the wall, the withdrawn Joe wouldn't have replied. "Are you another challenger? I hope you're not in a hurry, because I have to get another weaker scyther ordered. Lance is the only one on me and he's at too high a level now."

The first thing that surprised me was the fact that there was not a single trace of an Australian accent in this kid's speech, even though he looked like a mini Steve Irwin wearing his trademark safari clothing. It was higher inspection of Bugsy that told me he did in fact have dark purple hair, not yet long enough to touch his shoulders. Was it a crime for a gym leader to have it in a normal color?

Meeko sighed testily, stroking Damion's pokéball with his belt. "Any chance of getting the match in today?"

"Even if they managed to ship a new scyther over from the Kanto safari zone by closing, I'd have to spend some time training it. Sorry." Bugsy lowered himself and stepped outside from the hole in the wall. He turned to Meeko, eyes still inspecting the damaged wall in disdain. "If you really can't wait that long, I'll use Lance."

"That's fine. Let's just get in the gym already."

The leader gave Meeko an amused sideways glance. "That girl may have lost to Lance, but she crushed my other pokémon. I'm not going to battle with two out of three already out. My first stop is the center, and then we can battle."

Meeko quizzically watched the boy adruptly walk down the road towards the red roofed hospital. "So you're just gonna leave your gym unguarded while you're gone..?"

"Trust me, it's guarded alright." Bugsy shouted, a secret smile playing across his lips. He dug out a wood carved whistle from one of the pockets on his coat and blew into it. Not even my keen ears took the noise emitting from it audible.

The ever curious human reached for the door, found it mysteriously locked from the inside, and bent his neck to fit through the gaping hole. Twin blades unsheathed and nestled neatly over Meeko's throat, positioned like a giant scissor. "Back off human!" The massive scyther snarled, in her own tongue of course, and the vexed Meeko slowly retreated back outside.

This scyther was freakishly tall, age lines starting to form near lips that were always eager to pull back in her youth. She didn't bare many scars for a warrior so old, probably because her retirement had come early, as did all the scyther shipped to the Azalea gym. However, this didn't make the hissing, snarling creature in front of Meeko any less frightening.

Normally one to admire pokémon, Meeko seemed uncharacteristically ill spoken of the scyther guard. "Can't he get a growlithe like normal people instead of a walking cleaver?"

"We're talking about a kid with purple hair here." He chortled at Jill's words, starting to cover them up so the boy wouldn't see on his return from the center. Nobody but my observent self noticed the queer expression the scyther guard shot at Jill.

I swallowed the whimper forming in my throat and walked over to the guard's clawed feet. Putting on the sweetest baby charm in hatchling history, I looked up at her with what I imagined to be huge, innocent eyes. The premature six year old voice added a nice texture too. "I lost someone. Can you help me find him?"

The literate chikorita forgotten, a smile stretched across the elder's face, deepening her wrinkles. She'd fallen heavy for the bait. "Why of course dear... What does he look like?"

"Umm... a big and scary pokémon. And blue. With green eyes!" I was making a show of listing off things that first came to mind, as one my age would normally do. Behind me, Jill coughed to disguise budding laughter. "He also has really big fangs that _crunch_ real loud when he bites stuff. I think he's called a...todytile."

The scyther nodded seriously, sorting through the banks of her memories to find yesterday's main event of the day. Flying over the field bordering Union cave, witnessing the death ritual being performed by a flock of mareep, spotting the convulsing totodile on the ground near them... She bit her lower lip, accidentally severing them with her fangs. When she had returned to the field hours later, murkrow and other scavengers were gathering around bodies of the dead. The totodile wasn't among them.

"Oh, he also has a human. He's scary looking too." I added in casually. "He has a smelly, black and silver pelt and long red hair and a mean voice and-and...that's it."

Yes, the scyther had recalled a particularly nasty trainer last night, who very much matched the young one's description of him. She saw no totodile on his team, but only because a wounded cyndaquill had taken care of the match on its own.

"I... I would try searching in the fields. I think I saw him there yesterday." She stammered out the words, all laced heavy in leaden weights of guilt. The guard thought that by lowering her voice and turning to Jill and Joe would keep the last part she whispered free from my hearing. "But don't let the little one see. It's recently become a death garden."

Nodding, Jill inscribed another message over her previous one. "We're going out to the field while you two battle."

Meeko sighed through partly closed lips, crossing his arms and sharply drawing the hurt one back into place. "And when exactly is my battle?"

It was at that moment that Bugsy rounded the corner to his gym's entrance. "Man, you can't wait for a gym leader to heal his pokémon, can you?"

"No."

"You know, for some strange reason I don't feel bad about using Lance anymore..." The boy grumbled, walking towards the guard. Recognizing her master, she lowered to his height, hissing happily (I guessed that this was her species way of affection) as he stroked the plated skin beneath her chin. When he saw Meeko's skeptical stare, Bugsy only shrugged sheepishly, the ends of his hair bouncing off his shoulders. "She was my first scyther. I couldn't give her up after retirement."

Did I spot a glimmer of admiration in Meeko's eyes? Was he impressed that even at as young an age as his own, Bugsy treated his pokémon as trusted allies instead of fighting tools? It wasn't wise to attempt taming such feral creatures- creatures like that could turn on their owner at any moment and sever them in two. My thoughts reverted to Meeko's own starter, Damion, and the rocket's blood drying on his claws. It seemed like all totodiles were ruthless beasts eager for slaughter.

"Well, could you move the old girl to the side? She's blocking the way in." Meeko disappointed me by keeping his cold attitude. Hopefully he would calm down in the isolation of the forest, otherwise I'd be glad to ditch him if I got the chance.

Without needing to be told, the scyther turned around and took flight, the underdraft spewing soil beneath her in Meeko's face. Bugsy chuckled and sauntered through the hole, disappearing within his forest arena. Smearing the dirt out of his eyes, an irritated Meeko followed him. Their voices streamed out of the hole like it was a sink drain.

"Three-on-three, okay?"

"Yeah..."

A bright flash, the dull battle cry of a metapod, and then Joe started to lose interest. Using two claws, he tugged at my wrist until I, indisposed at what we would find at the field, followed him. Whether I wanted to listen it or not, Bugsy's battle still dripped into my hearing ever so faintly. The subtle mocking tone in Meeko's voice told me that even his new hatchling could beat the first foe. He called his pokémon Iggy, but I'd gotten out of earshot before the pokémon could emmit its own battle cry.

We passed by the well, still bound in yellow police line. Bullet holes scarred its rickety roof, sending pale lines of sunlight down the dwelling. The police may have arrested the men and women below, but they failed to cripple the fear that would forever be held inside. I couldn't wait for the day I could walk as a human under the sun of my own universe. At least there was no Team Rocket where I lived.

Up ahead the field stretched into the distance, dark shapes weeling about the sky like a pack of aerial sharks. They traced a perfect circle, lower with each revolution. Some screeched their hungered disappointment at the skin and bones stripped of any worthy flesh. "Gone, gone! All gone!"

We approached cautiously, for we knew all too well the risk of disturbing the meals of hungry scavengers. The small groups were mostly made up of murkrow hovering in the skies and clumsy-flying spearow fluttering on the ground. They greedily hopped from carcass to carcass, tuttering angrily with each passing body. At our unexpected arrival, the already irritated bunch flew over us, screaming and shrieking with talons raised. Not a single bird got an attack in before they fell twitching below my electricity or were wise enough to flee from their comrads.

Joe, once again taking the job of dragging his energy depleted friend forward, stepped to the nearest skeleton. He winced when he stepped on the bloody wool, which looked to me like red cotton candy. The carcass before us must have been male to be such a great size; the lining of ribs alone could serve as a rather sickening cage for Joe. Strips of spoiled meat hung in tatters on the surface of ivory bone, so vile and poor for the stomach that even the scavengers had sniffed at it in disapproval. The horrid stench of death flooded into my lungs, and I kneeled over in disgust, retching, sputtering, trying in vain to lessen what so heavily polluted the air. How could Joe even inpect these things with a straight face?

I heard Jill moan her revulsion, but she managed to keep her precious breakfast where it belonged as well. The frantic younger brother drifted away from me, since now even the sight of another dead thing would trigger a mouth tsunami. I wouldn't be any help trying to match skeletons and see if some fit a reasonable size to be Marc's.

It sounded easier than the task truly was. Naturally, we knew nothing of the anatomy of a pokémon, and weren't even sure what all these creatures were until Jill found one that had a recognizable body. Mareep. All mareep, big and small. The fact that none of them were different from their neighbors calmed Joe. After some thought however, it filled him with a sense of spirit crushing dread. Only Marc could have done this. He'd killed them all, even the small skeleton they'd spotted in the center of a ring of corpses. _Monster. _The word echoed in his head, cold and burning. It made the crime before him all the more revolting. _Monster._

"He's not here. Let's go." Joe choked, stumbling behind Jill and I. His eyes closed and leaking pearly tears, he brought his hands to his mouth hesitantly, mouth suddenly secreting a curious amount of spit. "I...I think I need a second. Keep goi.."

Heartbeats later, I heard him throwing up, coughing, and then quiet sobbing. This poor, unfortunate eleven year old crying his empty heart out, caught in a cruel web of death and violence. This boy, all alone in a world that thrived on misery. It was surprising how such an innocent kid show could turn around and unsheath its claws so deeply on the last of us to stay loyal to it.

"Well, now we know who's gonna get hungry first in the forest." Jill said to me dryly before the ashamed charmander came into earshot.

When we entered the town, the rotting stench was still clinging to my fur and nose. I would sitting on my back legs and groom my pelt at every pause the two made. No use. Not even a clothes washer could have scrubbed away the smell of a bad memory.

"Where are you going?" I asked them through my yellow fur as they turned down to Bugsy's gym. "Do you actually think Meeko's so good that he's finished battling already?"

Had Jill not been sickened numb, we'd probably be watching the conclusion of the gym battle, but she was in no more of a mood to argue than I was to watching pokémon get cut to ribbons. Although we were unsure of the reason, the three of us walked to the center's front steps, where a human nurse peered down at us from the glass hatches. She smiled warmly, opening the doors for us to come in.

"You were with that black haired boy from eariler, right? Yes, I remember from those tags his pokémon had on." Her voice was soft and welcoming, not fake like that Beverly girl this morning. She leaned forward at Joe's eye level, unaware of the visible residue of tears. "What are you doing without your trainer?"

Almost carelessly, Jill wrote in the sandy pathway, "Gym battle, sent us here."

The nurse blinked at the legible script, rereading it twice more to be sure what she was seeing was authentic. She spoke again, the tone in her voice more puzzling than suspicious. "Well, aren't you a smart bunch of pokémon..! Your trainer taught you how to write little phrases in the sand."

Without another word, the nurse escorted us to our old room, high heels clacking over the smooth tiles. Once at the door, she slid the card key through and beckoned us inside. She left the door open slightly before departing, and click-clacked out of earshot.

Joe climbed up a one seat couch and turned away from Jill and I, his face to the cushions. I didn't blame him for the mysterious drowsiness. It was just asking for nightmares, but we all felt that withdrawing into a peaceful slumber temporarily warded off the terror in our hearts. Jill helped my up onto the larger couch, and I climbed up on her head to drag the cloth shades shut.

From the window above the couch, you could see a portion of the forest no more than fifteen feet away, barricaded by a decaying fence that had been forgotten over the years of the sleepy town. I paused in the pulling of the shade, muscles tensing at the sight I saw. Two four legged creatures shuffled hesitantly at the forest border, the shadows of the trees concealing their faces. One scuffed the dirt road in an impatient gesture, a midnight pelt with equally coal black claws. The owner's face stopped in mid movement, slowly drew back the front paw, and looked up at me. Despite the darkness draping over the couple, the color in the creatures eyes shone sickeningly clear, like the red plumage of a cardinal. A slit of a pupil swam around inside the scarlet, directed at this peeper inside the center. He motioned for the second devil creature to come, and started to walk out of the forest. I whimpered mutely and closed the rest of the shade before bothering to watch anything else.

My heart hammering, I slid off of Jill's forehead, trudging through the spongy couch material and crawling beneath the small decoration pillow. What did they want? We're they still coming at the center window? Standing outside of it and reaching a clawed hand in to get me? I tried to block out the image in my head and settle into a sleeping position like the other two, but even in our newly obtained darkness, I remained wide awake.

_"She won't sleep."_

"Huh?" I squeaked fearfully at the whispery voice, backing up deeper into the corner of the couch. Jill and Joe's snores were terrifying to me.

_"Of course not. She saw me beforehand."_

_"Well then... What are you waiting for?"_

It was after that gruff question that I felt a growing pressure inside my chest and head, as if mere coils of air had constricted around the organs inside them. I gasped for breath, struggled to think against the migrain in my head, both hands pressing into my chest... A wave of red seemed to inject into the blood vessels of my eye, scattering along my vision like river marks on a map. The pillow above me shifted next to Jill, amazingly still caught in her beatifully woven dreams. But was it really her making these dreams?

The pair looked down at my frozen face, which, as ironic as it was, seemed to hold a serene, almost sleepy expression plastered on it. From what I could see, I was witnessing living symbols of yin and yang. Both had the smooth, canine faces and sharp feline noses and eyes. The darker one whose paw I saw kneeding the ground outside was revoltingly closer to my face than its partner, so close that I could see the small flecks of discoloration in its pupil. The dark one. A single golden ring pulsed a raging energy in the center of its forehead. My mind clicked at the familiar sight, but the unseen power repelled any deep thought.

The one behind it had a lighter pelt, soft lilac, possibly. Unlike the creature in front of my face, this one held a calm, detached demeanor. The eyes flashed an aqua blue, leaving a faint outline of its pupil. It's spirit seemed to reach out to me through a red sphere on its forehead, begging for a hopeless confusion to end. The lost one. _N-no! Stop! _How strong the feeling was! The hopelessness, frustration, anger... they flooded through my own startled spirit, tainting it with this queer confusion until I teetered on the edge of knowing and not. _You're taking it away! All of it! _My memories- human and pokémon- my emotions, my senses... All the while the lost one took it all in hungrily. The dark one swerved around and shoved it to the ground with its front paws, baring white fangs. Our link shattered, and I hurried to mentally reclaim what was stolen, like they were material objects that could be shoplifted from a careless cashier. I heard Jill and Joe crying in their sleep.

Control of my body came back with a harmless jolt, and I scrambled once again into the corner of the couch. The pillow still leaned into Jill's side, who was beginning to stir from a sleep she thought to have lasted hours. The intruders illuminated a watery neon green, allowing me to see what these thieves were. Why hadn't I realzed it before?

The umbreon still glared at its partner, an espeon, who pertained the beauty no animal of my world could compare it with. Its smooth eyes were icy cold, gray and lost stumbling in a veil of shadow. They were fixed unmoving on me, mournful at the knowledge they failed to obtain. "_I was so close... Why did you stop me, Shadowveil..?" _Its female voice sang musically in my ears

_"This wasn't what you asked for. Must I always keep an eye on you, Shimmertail?"_

The couple dissolved just as Jill and Joe snapped their eyes opened, both fully welled out of sleep by the umbreon's deep, reverberating voice. They told me later that they dreamt of humanoid angels just about to disappear with me in one of their arms, when the other empty handed creature tore my captive's arms off. It was a dream where it starts out nice...and takes a sudden, unpleasant shift.

Jill yawned in a lazy manner, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "Hm, that was a nice nap... How long were we asleep for? ...huh? Jade, why are you shaking?"

"Just...cold." I gasped out an instinctive lie, the shadow voice snickering in the back of my head.

Joe slid off the couch cushion, stumbling over to us both. "You have fur, no windows are opened, and your eyes are double their normal size. Tell us you're cold again."

"What do you care? You guys were asleep." I shot back, fighting against muscles that urged me to stay still. It was a good thing the nurse was smart enough to leave the door ajar enough for us to get out. "Come on, I'm sure Meeko's finished his battle by now. I just want to get 'the journey through a spooky forest' part of this trip over with if you don't mind."

oo00oo

"Slice him good, Lance!"

"Watch it Damion; don't lose a hand on me now!"

The frantic totodile fought through shallow stab wounds that had puntured his scaly armour. More than just pain and scyther blades attacked his body, which feinted on feet that longed for the safety of a water's deep depths. Uncertainty, distrust, and fear... In his short life of being raised by a trainer, none of these feelings had ever hit Damion so harshly all at once.

_Meeko got me into this... And that thing with Team Rocket,_ _too._ Damion seethed, his knees buckling and wrists screaming under the impact of the flat end of Lance's scythe. Peppered paths of his blood told him that this fight wouldn't last long. _Is he trying to kill me or something?_

Preoccupied by his troubled thoughts, Lance found an opportunity of attack on Damion's chest. The fury cutter sliced a thin line past the scales and into flesh. Damion bellowed in agony, sliding backwards on his feet and clutching both hands to his bleeding breast. He clenched his jaws together, a hypnotizing blue color flashing behind his closed eyelids. _My trainer doesn't know what he's doing..._

The pain seemed to melt away within his blood, pounding in his veins. With a savage snarl, Damion opened his eyes and pounced on Lance, too nimble for the opponent to deflect the projectile. Lance stumbled on his back into the grassy arena, momentarily stunned by this shocking counterattack. Damion ignored the orders Meeko shouted at him. Instead, the totodile bit down on the scyther's right dragonfly wings, the transparent flesh crushed and torn in one swift crunch of his jaws. His free left hand slashed at Lance's face, the other one holding down the only arm capable of getting a neat slash across his back.

_I don't need him to order me around. I'm going to win the battle, because I know more about combat than my own trainer does! _Damion thought, his smile only damaging the wing even further. _Meeko is incompetent compared to my power. I don't need his human voice... I don't need him..._

_I can take care of myself._


	16. Bloody Battles

Previously on The Changlings... _It's a day after the Slowpoke Well ordeal when Meeko decided to join the gang on their journey. He planned to win the Hive badge that day before going in the forest, and the trio, thinking it wise to avoid such difficult battles, decide to search a field outside Union Cave that was runored to have Marc training in earlier. They found only vulture birds and mareep corpses. Upon returning, they head for the pokémon center to sleep off the rest of Meeko's gym battle. While they slumbered, two intruders from the forest, an Umbreon and an Espeon by the names of Shadowveil and Shimmertail respectively, appear in the room and nearly 'kidnap' Jade's sanity. No longer comfortable at the hospital, they leave and go to meet up with Meeko._

Currently Injured: Damion, suffering from a scyther slash wound across torso. Status is Unknown.

Author's Note: Aha! I _knew_ I would finish up a chapter before I moved on Labor Day! This is, as the chapter title says, a long, bloody battle scene that I sorta've rushed in around the end. I think I had too much fun with this chapter, especially the way I decided to end it. This chapter, ending at ten pages long, may be the longest yet. Too lazy to count the others. And woot! I rarely ever say that, but this is worth wootness for sure! I reached page ahundred at the quote "I give! Enough Adrian!". And it only took 365 days too. -' Enjoy the chapter, and tell me what you think. P.S The line thing seperating these from the chapter 'snot working, I think. Grr..

**Chapter Sixteen: Bloody Battles**

The battle in Bugsy's gym ended only minutes more when Damion had unearthed the secrets of his new rage attack. Swipe after relentless swipe didn't seem to weaken his strong opponent, so Damion resorted to knocking Lance out cold with a well aimed punch over his plated skull. It was after Meeko had recalled him to his pokéball that the slash wounds caught aflame in spasms of agony. Neither Damion nor those outside of his haven knew about it, since beings inside a pokéball had no true body to heal or receive pain with. Many would think that keeping their badly injured pokémon in a pokéball helps the healing process or wards away further damage, when in reality, it allows the wounds to worsen without a host able to heal it. Damion would be given a rude awakening the next time Meeko needed his assistance.

"Check out the Hive badge, guys." The human purred, gushing over the little piece of metal for the hundredth time within ten minutes of his win. He lowered himself to his knees, broadcasting his triumph through a smug grin and laughing eyes.

Bugsy had obviously designed the simple badge himself. It was a flawless circle, taking on the rough illustration of a ladybug. The upper third section had been dyed black, and in the center of what was still red rested a pyramid made up of three black dots. It appeared ugly compared to the silver Zephyr badge inside my pouch. Still, the growing collection pinned to the inner part of Meeko's jacket lifted his dragging spirit. This resulted in a much more tolerant traveling partner.

"Ilex forest? Bring it on!"

"Pokémon center? They can rest during the forest trip. We've got a friend to find, so no time to waste!"

Personally, I was hoping Meeko would get over his win and cease from acting like he'd eaten half a dozen packs of sugar. It was plain selfishness on my part, hoping he would revert to his classic, lonely self, when these brief episodes of happiness were so rare.

So here we were, starting off, the animal trio loitering fruitlessly and the human teenager ecstatic. He kept looking over his shoulder at us as we approached the gate, his significant shadow already fused with the forests. Getting this close up made the tree tops amplify beyond my neck arching. This disturbed me, since I was never so small and the trees so large for such a thing to happen before.

Meeko boldly reached for the door's gate, and failed to open it. There was a flapping of membrane wings, the pitched scream of a bat, and a yelp of pain from Meeko. A zubat had hurtled at him from the town's direction in the suffocating sunlight, clamping a set of fangs over his knuckles and palm. No blood spilled from the wound the teeth held so firmly, although there was no doubt the liquid would burst out in a plume of red when the iron grip relaxed.

The bite startled Meeko, but he recovered from the ordeal quick enough to keep his attacker from biting deeper, his narrowed eyes snarling. His bitten hand's digits trembled whenever the pokémon jostled nerves and muscle in his hand. Had the creature any eyes, they would be twinkling a grave determination, set only on the task it was commanded to do: bite a human when he and three pokémon reached the gate, and when that happens, to then...

The zubat, through a mouthful of hand flesh, screeched until its throat felt as if it caught fire. How great the urge was to sap away the blood swimming around its fangs beneath the skin to cool the scream's painful consequences.

Before Meeko could peel it off, the zubat unlatched from his hand and sped off down the town's dirt road, mouth widened in its blind search for an anonymous target. Meeko cradled his bloody hand, the other one's fingers wrapped tightly over his wrist.

"God dammit all..." He swore quietly, watching as blood bubbled through his four puncture wounds, two on each side of his hand. "Only someone like me could get through that cave without getting bit, just to get attacked out in broad daylight."

I gave the other two an anxious look, and they mirrored my uneasy expression. For zubat, flying in bright light was as painful as soaring through a barricade of fire. Only a brutally tame zubat would endure that willingly.

As if on cue, the zubat fluttered back in our sights, with a shrouded figure running beneath it on the dirt road. My heart gasped, the blood in my veins stilled and cold.

"Adrian." The charmander I was witnessing didn't show any of his previous, insecure nature. His eyes were caught aflame themselves, his claws baring deep scars into the dirt. "He took him away."

A snarl burst forth from deep within Joe, a twisted, hybrid sound of human and pokémon hatred. Adrenaline pumped through his finger tips like invisible droplets of raw energy. He continued watching Adrian approach us all, his eyes straying towards the turquoise pokéball that undoubtedly held Marc captive.

Clearly in earshot of all of us, even to the deaf hearing of Meeko's, Adrian called out in greeting. "It's good to see you four again. How about we have a little rematch, Meeko? You could have your totodile against mine."

"You have no idea what you caught in that cave, do you?" He replied grimly.

"Well... I know it makes a formidable tool."

"SHUT UP! You just shut the hell up!" Joe shouted, smoke billowing from his nostrils. His eyes snapped shut into reptilian slits.

It took me a few moments to simply recover from the might of Joe's uncommon public outburst, and by the time I did, he had run at Adrian until he stood a few yards away. He rested on all four hands in a menacing squat that readied for a pounce, his front hand rising slightly from the dirt road. His tail's torch appeared to feed solely off the boy's hate.

The scene unfolded in slow motion, from my eyes at least. Adrian took a nervous step backwards, his hand reaching blindly for a pokéball like a gunslinger at a showdown. Joe seemed to swell up to twice his normal size, jaws parted to prepare for the attack that licked at his insides in the form of a bubbling liquid flame. His eyes gleamed with a white fury, but the instant the bulbous, crimson pillar of fire was exposed to open air, they were overshadowed by a ruby patina, as if all the anger and hate he'd been bottling up rose to the surface and sloshed about inside them. Joe wanted to _kill_ Adrian. He relished in the fantasy of smelling the tartness of his charred flesh and hair, the screams of mercy the young outlaw made, the joy of reuniting at last with his brother.

The last part arrived sooner than he thought, minus the joy. By pure chance alone, it was Marc who Adrian withdrew from his belt, and the croconaw reacted to the wall of flame by summoning an elemental onslaught from within his own maw. It smothered Joe's hate attack like a striking serpent bringing down a helpless mouse. A foamy steam fluttered in the breeze, uncomfortably in Joe's face. He hardly felt it.

"M-marc..."

The pokémon sniffed at Joe warily, bestial arms dangling inches from the ground. His eyes were gray- so dauntingly pretty- but wild with battle lust. His once narrow muzzle had morphed into a shorter snout, and the lower fangs failed to stay hidden behind his upper lip. It added on to an already feral appearance.

"Who..?" Marc forced out a single, pained word, distorted from his new body change. It held a growling overshadow that made it hard to understand him.

"Marc, it's me! Your brother!"

Laughing, Joe ran up to Marc, his arms outstretched. The older sibling momentarily flinched, and then curled his lips into a snarl. He lunged at Joe, knocking him clean off his feet on his back, both hands grinding his wrists against the ground. The croconaw sat still, awaiting a command from his trainer.

"So you see now, Charmander... Waterburn isn't your friend anymore. It belongs to me. I could give it the word to kill you right now..."

Marc lowered his jaws and bared them over Joe's pulsing throat.

"...and it would do it without question. Release it, Waterburn!"

Marc backed away from Joe, eyes focused on every move his brother made, from him scrambling back to our group, to the blank expressions he received from him. The hate, along with everything else, had leeched out of Joe by a sponge of absolute horror.

Adrian recalled Marc and switched his attention back to Meeko. "Now, where were we...? I asked for a battle, right?"

"If you seriously think I'm going to accept that challenge, you're more twisted than I thought." Meeko snarled, his arms crossed.

"You don't have a choice in the matter, Meeko. I asked for a battle, and you have to accept. Choose the four pokémon you're going to use." Adrian heckled, unclipping the other three pokéballs from his belt.

"But I was just in a gym battle..." The boy started meekly.

"Then you should have healed them at the center like a responsible trainer." He replied smoothly.

"Don't you tell me how to raise my pokémon, Adrian!" Meeko shouted, clenching his fist's helplessly. "I only had to battle you once to know that you're an abusive trainer who isn't worth dog shit."

"Quit stalling and choose your pokémon, already." Adrian, undaunted by the insults, stood patiently, crossing his arms. "Of course, you could always use your little friends. Then I can capture them all at once while they're out."

"You actually think I'm going to battle?" I butted in, self-consciously adding my own opinion to the monolingual tough talk. My comment was, obviously, ignored by the two humans.

Meeko held one of the pokéballs in his bloody palm, thrusting in his middle finger press the enlarger button. He scowled at it, as if trying to picture the wounded pokémon trapped inside. His fingers tightened, blood bubbled from the bite wounds, he readied to throw it out on the road... and slowly lowered it again. The boy looked down at us, a feeble attempt at a smile pecking at his face.

"Who wants to go first..?" He asked weakly, his expression evolving into staidness. "I'm serious when I say this, guys. You might not be good at fighting, but you'll do better off than fainted pokémon."

"Your confidence in us is all we need to win." Jill muttered dryly, taking a step forward and raising a vine in challenge.

Meeko's face brightened to almost believable levels of sincerity. "I have no idea what you just said, but thanks for volunteering anyway. What name do you want me to call you by in the battle?"

"Yeah, because the name of a freak lab pokémon is _very_ important." I heard Adrian chortle under his breath. My cheeks burned with anger.

"...Okay. That's an easy name to remember." Meeko said to the name scribbled in the dirt. He looked back up at Adrian hatefully. "Well, Jill, prepare to kick some ass."

Jill ran a few feet in front of Meeko, vines unraveling in expectation of having another foe's neck coiled in their clutches. The chikorita flicked her eyes at Adrian obsessively. He was the one who killed Marc.

It surprised her how easily Joe and Marc's kinship had been severed. A lifetime of friendship and superiority, competition and cooperation, laughs and tears, were shattered in only a day's time in the company of Adrian. It was suspicious. The look in Marc's discolored eyes told Jill that not only were Marc's drastic changes permanent, but caused by more than human help alone. What had happened to the Marc they all new, prior to capture? Dead? Perhaps.

"Hey, aren't you going to send out your first pokémon?" Meeko called, Jill nodding in agreement.

"I sent it out long ago. Attack Zubat!"

Before either had time to react, Meeko's aerial hand assailant soared down from the air and landed on Jill's back. She looked over her shoulder at the bat, vines frozen in helpless surprise, broken from her shock only when the blind pokémon found its fangs in her neck. Her eyes snapped shut at the pain of the bite, Jill dove blindly forward, screaming. Meeko shouted out orders to her in vain. That horrific feeling of the creature sucking blood from her neck was too much for her to handle. She shook her head side to side, desperately trying to pry the bat away from her in all the wrong ways, like a wild horse does to the rider.

"Vines! Jill _use your vines!_" Unable to get through to her, Meeko swore savagely. _She doesn't listen to me!_

Jill tried the human way of getting the thing off her back; while she ran, she attempted to reach over her shoulder with her short arms, in turn falling in a heap in the dirt. Momentarily confused, she sat on her back wondering how her world had flipped over when she used her hands. Jill tottered to one side to stand back up, blinking at the sky woozily. The lack of weight on her dribbling neck brought her back to harsh reality. In her topple she had crushed the zubat beneath her; it resembled a paper air plane that crash landed a few times too many. Wing membranes bent awkwardly, the zubat struggled back into flight, screaming in rage. It made another dive for her neck.

"Razor leaf!"

"Razor _what?"_

Clueless, Jill ran sideways, the zubat following her with a snapping mouth. Just battling this single bat made her plights in the cave and at Falkner's gym look like a...well, a hatchling's problem.

The zubat's skinny legs unintentionally brushed against her vines. They twitched into life- one snarled both the creature's stick legs, the other lashed out and caught one wingtip in an unsteady grip. Jill was astonished at their instinctive behavior, though quickly adapted and added her own will to the vines. She snapped the zubat's legs, and it thrashed about desperately to keep aloft on a wing and a half.

"I shouldn't have to tell you how to get out of this mess!" Adrian shouted, taking a step forward and brushing parts of his bangs out of his face. At first, he was quiet, expecting the creature to respond correctly. It continued to flail in meaningless directions. His face twisted in anger. "Supersonic, you worthless maggot!"

The foe snapped its head forward to face Jill, mouth widened in a silent scream. Already, Jill's vines had let go of the bat's wing to flee from the attack, but she was too slow in the release of its legs. The invisible attack swept over and through her, and her vines shuddered spastically as they dropped to the ground. This was the first time Jill experienced such confusion, luckily avoiding such a dilemma in Union cave. Her eyes served to their own will, rolling everywhere but where she needed them most: on the attacker. It was like how dreams weaved up by a vicious fever worked; whirling, spinning, vertigo with eyes both opened and closed. Random attacks assaulted her mindless body. A truly terrible attack was worse than the sucking of blood. Undetectable things would pluck away at her body's energy, absorbing it and tearing off with a painful jolt. It made her scream fearfully and walk laboriously around the clearing, despite the supersonic's affects. _When does this wear off?_

When the rolling of eyes and difficulty of normal movement began to fade, a blast of more confusion recycled the process. _No, _she realized._ It does it over and over until..._

_Until what_?

It was becoming clear that Jill wasn't the best choice of action for this opponent. Although she didn't realize it, bloodless cuts polluted her skin's surface. Joe and I were frantic.

"Do something! He's gonna catch my sister, too!" I tugged furiously at his faded pant leg, but he was too thickly enwrapped in the panic of battle. Joe joined my chorus.

"Listen to us! Meeko! Bring her in, call a time-out. _Do something_!" Joe bellowed the last of the words, a tongue of flame hissing past his lips.

Meeko was painfully aware of all of this, and was grateful he couldn't understand what we were yelling. It sounded too chillingly human even in a different language. He was perfectly aware that the chikorita on the battle field was the pichu's twin sister somehow, and it made the pressure all the more mind freezing. He didn't want to be responsible for another separation. Hell, he didn't even want to be with us anymore. We were bad luck charms. Made the battles bad for him, and the battle coordinating even worse. Did he have the voice or the pride enough to switch off? Turns out that he didn't even have a choice.

"If you don't have the ass to save my sister, then why are you even traveling with us?" I gave a shriek of outrage at his blank stare. So ignorant! If I could understand _his_ language, he could certainly take the time enough to learn mine. "Translate for me, Joe. I'm taking over."

Joe beckoned Meeko down with a claw and scribbled my message while I jumped into the battle. Adrian immediately objected.

"Zubat, stop your attacks. It seems our opponent doesn't know how to control his pokémon." He spat, wiping nonexistent sweat from his brow. "Meeko! Choose which one is more fit to battle. Judging from the size of the pichu, I suggest keeping the chikorita in."

I had always been somewhat small in my lifetime, and at just below five feet, didn't get my hopes up of ever flourishing as a decent basketball player when high school rolled around and all the girls went through puberty. Never did I get mocked for my vertically challenged body as a human, so when the teases finally flared up in the body of a scrawny, ugly rodent, I had the rights to be somewhat miffed. I aimed for the electric attack (it's even harder and more impossible than it sounds), just as Meeko looked up from the dirt message and said 'I'm recalling the chikorita". If he hadn't finished the statement seconds earlier, we'd have lost the battle by forfeit.

A ribbon of electricity licked the zubat's left wing, sending it spiraling to the ground. Parts of the fragile membrane sizzled and smoked an acrid stench much like burning hair. The legs, broken by the constricting abuse from before, were now forgotten pieces of battered flesh beneath the fluttering body of the zubat. Flight was difficult before, and now it was nearly impossible. Pathetically weak, it made a ditch effort of an attack, snapping its jaw in my direction. Already tired out from the brief attack, I made no move to provoke it into a supersonic frenzy. The defeated pokémon flapped its crippled wing once, and then lowered its head to the ground.

"Useless wench." Adrian snarled, recalling the unlucky creature to its pokéball.

Meeko took this chance to walk up to Jill and try picking her up. Partially recovered from the supersonic attack, she shoved his hands away with her vines and limped back to Joe. He followed her sheepishly. No words needed to be said here. Human intelligence or not, a pokémon knew how to hold a grudge, and hold it very tightly.

In preparation for the possibility of facing Marc, I replayed a shaky plan in my head. I lure him to Meeko, Meeko grabs him, and we all run into the forest. This plan was useless in the end. When the pokéball broke open in the air, a wave of heat told me that the cyndaquill was his prime choice for the squashing of a preemie pokémon. What came out of the pokéball shouldn't have surprised me.

Blaze had evolved into a quilava. He stood on his back legs with a fire in his eyes. His new slender body had melted away the old scars of abuse, and fresh ones were forming over his navy skin already. New visible ears flicked back when he saw me, and fire crackled like a flaming Mohawk on his head. The flame on his lower back was inactive, with only dozing red welts to show signs of the fire's life. Like Marc, Jill sensed a permanent change in the withdrawn hatchling we'd seen attacking Marc so long ago.

"I've grown up." Blaze hissed. His low voice, overlapped by a thick accent of growls and snarls, made his speech hardly understandable.

As a cyndaquill, the only danger Blaze possessed was a flame attack that took too long to charge up. Now, with his weasel shape and constant fire, he posed a more serious threat. A bubble of fire forced his jaws apart, and I could feel the mild pain of my pupil shrinking to pinpricks of blackness. Oh _no._

"Thunder shock pichu!"

"Screw the shocks, Meeko!" I yelled, franticly running out of range. The flame thrower followed me like a predator, the heat searing the fur tips on my small tail... I whimpered, trying with all my small might to outrun the nonliving beast.

And suddenly, I was back in the burned down pokémon center. Every inch of my body was engulfed in licking flame, fur aflame and nose searing but thankfully avoiding true touches from the poisoned heat. My scream was overwhelmed by the hiss and growls of the fire feeding on my fur. It sounded so alive. It really was a predator, and wouldn't you know it? I was the freshly caught prey.

This torture, however slow it seemed, lasted less than a second. The sound of my scream became audible in a rush once the fire dissolved. Numerous patches of it were still gnawing away at fur, and I wondered how long it would be until...

My shrieks changed to those of pain. The flames had reached flesh. Running in mad circles, I could hardly hear the whisper, the annoying chime which was drilled into the heads of every human at a certain age in my animal panic. I only got the first part. It said to stop. Stop what? The fire? My screams? Stop.

And then, it wasn't my mind saying the solution, it was Meeko. "Stop, drop, and roll!"

_Oh yeah!_ I flicked my ears back, pulled my head into my chin, and covered my face with hands that were on fire. Gritting my teeth, I dropped to the round and rolled in the grainy dirt, feeling the sudden relief of the burns. They still pained me, but not as dreadfully as the actual burning.

I saw flash of blue skin running at me before I made another resolution. Blaze swiped his hand at me like I was a hockey puck, the prime of the attack directed at my stomach. An explosion of pain in my gut, I was sent sprawling through the air, the quilava following my path. I ended up crashing into the white picket fence on the sides of the forest entrance, wood splintering behind me somewhere. A dizzying jolt in my back added to the pain in my front. I felt myself starting to peel away from the fence, and hoped I would land neatly enough to recover and get an attack in. A suffocating pressure on my upper chest held me in place. Blaze's other hand, curled into a crumbled fist, reared back behind his grinning face. My cheeks sparked for an attack, I tensed my face for a brutal swing, trying to move my arms up for protection. Not fast enough. Blaze hit me viciously in between my eyes, breaking the wood supporting me and sending me several feet backwards, out of the battle field. Belly up, I stared up at sky and tree tops with widened eyes, trying to bear the pains of the attacks. My cheeks sparked again, and then I passed out.

oo00oo

Things were not looking good for Meeko at all. He knew the pichu didn't have any chance at all in beating the quilava. It was so strong! Not a word from its trainer and it still beat the shit out of her without even letting her fight back. He was frustrated that he was losing, frustrated that this worm was winning, and worse, frustrated beyond rational thought that these kids didn't have the sense enough to _listen to him_.

Blaze stared through the hole she was punched through, sniffed in satisfaction, and walked back to Adrian's side. Clearly, she was out cold. Hopefully that was all and not some piece of rouge wood that had scalped her like a frog.

The last of the healthy fighters was the one they said couldn't battle well since he was too dependent. Maybe that would be good for Meeko. Unlike the other two, he had the most means of inflicting damage. He had teeth, claws, and also knew how to breathe fire. Meeko bent down next to the chikorita and charmander, still shaken by his dance with the croconaw.

"I know you guys can understand me. So you have to listen to me, too. When I say you use a certain attack, you'll use it. Don't try talking to me, because I can't understand you. You don't speak English anymore, so don't say anything." He instructed sternly, concentrating on keeping his voice steady.

The charmander nodded, scribbled something in the dirt, and stood where the pichu had been before. He looked down and read the messy letters J-O-E, then smeared it away with his hand. He didn't like calling them by human names, but he didn't like calling them by pokémon names either. It was like saying salt was pepper just because it was in a pepper shaker.

"Okay Joe... Use scratch!" He called, standing up.

Joe looked at his claws, unsure if they could do more than a powerful flame attack, and then recited what Meeko said in his head. The boy knew what he was doing, even if Joe didn't. So, mustering up his courage to draw nearer to Blaze, he ran at him, hands raised to slash and tear. The flame on Blaze's back leapt to life, feeding the fire sphere bulging in his mouth. A column of flame reached out to Joe, hissing at his skin but causing no pain. Joe shielded his eyes from the fire with his left arm, the other still groping through the flame for its target. Blinded by the fire, Joe couldn't ward off the incoming attack. Blaze drove into him like a bullet, forcing the breath from his lips with a withered wheeze. The fire around them dissipated, and both fell heavily to the ground. Temporarily helpless, Joe got a brief flame in the face before he managed to swipe Blaze across one side of his mouth, cutting up a good deal of cheek and exposed gums. Blood spattering from his mouth, the quilava screeched in anger, pulling away from Joe and clutching one side of his face. Red droplets wormed down his wrists, and parts of his snarling lower lip were bathed in the blood. He pried open his eyes and narrowed them at Joe. When he talked, more of it sprayed about the ground in small groups.

"I'll tear off your fingers for that, hatchling!"

Surprised that so much bloody damage had been wrought by his claws, Joe still sat on his back on the ground, the hand he used to attack still raised. It took a sharp scolding from Meeko to wake from his shock.

"What are you sitting there for?" The trainer shouted, exasperated.

Joe stumbled to his feet and swung his head back to avoid a vicious punch. Off balance, he was easily overcome when Blaze dived on him again, and this time his hands found that they were pinned to the ground. Blaze's arm muscles rippled and pulsed like liquid steel against the weak resistance Joe was putting up.

He felt Joe trying to pull in his legs so he could kick off and hit the quilava clean in the gut, and leaned forward to prevent painful blows to the stomach. And suddenly, raking claws slashed repeatedly down his lower torso and legs. It was like the charmander was running on a treadmill flat on his back; except Blaze was what he ran on and his intentions were far more sinister than an enduring exercise. All strength seeped out through the ragged wounds in sickening waves of raw agony. His grip on Joe's hands faltered, and once in the right position, was flung sprawling a few feet by a brutal kick.

Stunned at his own ferocity, Joe once again froze when he stood up. He could feel clumps of Blaze's skin clogging the space beneath his claws, and his blood gathered in a small pool at the bottom of Joe's heels.

Blaze lay moaning in the dirt, teeth bared, eyes clenched shut and leaking timid tears. He dared pull blood sodden arms away from the frayed flesh on his underbelly, eyes widening at the sight of so much blood coming from one place. So much was he smeared with it that angry red replaced mellow tan color of his lower half. The flames on his back and head snuffed out with a hiss. The true pain had yet to come later, when his mind caught up with his torn and battered body.

"I-I'm sorry!" Joe screamed, falling to his knees and cupping runny hands over his face. "I didn't me-mean to!"

Joe never saw the finishing blow coming. In a heartbeat, Blaze was upon him again, spraying droplets of blood over the unexpected foe's face. His few fingers groped for a good grip on a skinny orange neck that held scars from a past strangling. They found purchase despite the slippery liquid coating each of them, and gripped tight. Oh, how Blaze urged to have claws and fangs... They would have smote themselves deep, so deep into the child's throat, that the tips of his claws would have grated the ground underneath.

Gagging, Joe struggled with all his might to pull away the arms reinforced with liquid steel. His mind skittered in infinite directions, leaving him mindless. He was back in Union cave now, with light blue arms coiling around his neck instead of sticky red. The eyes were green and wild, not nonexistent in a blind rage. From his eyes, it might as well have been Marc trying to kill him again, not Blaze. He could only hope that another Jade would come to the rescue this time too. Too far along in his oxygen starved brain, he no longer had the ability to hear what Meeko was saying.

"I give! Enough, Adrian! For the last friggin time CALL YOUR POKéMON OFF!"

"Let go of it, Blaze." Adrian said coldly, taking on the role of this deadly robot's off switch.

When Joe was released, he made no move, no desperate gulps for air. His eyes were shut, and his lips slightly parted to take in shy breaths that were so small, they were near imperceptible on his rising chest. If not for the rapid tremor that was his thumping heartbeat, one would take him for dead.

Meeko ran up to Joe and slid his arms under him, picking him up just as he rose from a brief blackout. His eyes scanned around him lazily, glazed and confused. He tried talking, and managed an oily noise that gurgled from the back of his throat, carrying small globs of blood that spilled over his lips. The human turned his head up so as to look away from the mangled sight of a pokémon that was once a boy. He slowly lowered him down beside Jill, and turned back to shoot poisoned daggers from his eyes at the other trainer. The violence in this fight didn't seem to deter Adrian at all, which made it all the more infuriating. It also freaked the hell out of Meeko to be losing a battle this badly.

_My last chance..._ He mused, unclipping Damion's pokéball. Pressing the button, he threw the ball out into the battle, where it broke open with a flash and flew back into his palm. Damion stood proud in front of Blaze, ready to finish what Jade had tried to start. For about a moment. Seconds later, his expression was one of agony, and he let out a hair curling shriek of pain.

oo00oo

It was the sound of a scream that woke me up. My first thought was, that no one screams like that unless their spirit's hurtin' somethin' horrible, faint Texan accent and all. I didn't have time for a second thought, because after that, a tsunami of pain crashed down on me, rooting me to the spot. Utter loathing for the thing that woke me from painless bliss forced me to bite the bullet, and bite it hard, so I could see who my culprit was and give them a piece of my mind.

First there was the task of getting up. In the front, I had a pounding headache, and the area around my stomach felt like delicate mush. It didn't hurt now, but it surely would when I got up. The back, the one I was putting merciless pressure on, was just one whole, bloated sore. I smelled of smoke and burned flesh, and was sure that most of my fur and small blisters of my skin were charred black.

The progressing battle's sound effects were what lured me to the pichu-sized hole in the fence. Having no idea how long I was out for, I was scared at what I might see... us winning the battle, or losing?

It was hard to say. I felt like shouting 'what the _hell_ happened while I was unconscious?' in a bossy, no-nonsense tone. Jill had recovered enough for me to unlatch my worry for her, only for it to flutter over to Joe like a panicky nurse all alone in an emergency room. Was that all his blood I saw on his toes and fingers? And what about his neck?

That mental question brought back the flashback of our last moments with Marc, and I turned my attention back to the battle, expecting the gray-eyed croconaw to be there, strangling the life out of whoever had screamed me awake.

The opponent was still Blaze, much to my dislike. It was a beaten, bloody, shadow of the former quilava that had pummeled me into oblivion, but Blaze all the same. The owner of the scream was Damion. He held both hands to his chest, covering a heavily bleeding wound from my view. Judging from the bewildered and then menacing look Blaze held on his mangled face, I decided that he wasn't blameworthy of the injury.

Meeko looked on in downright confusion and horror, the possibility of losing finally catching up to him. He raised his fist up and took a halfhearted step forward. "Uh... Damion, use water gun!"

Regardless of his slash wound, Damion expanded his chest and aimed his muzzle at the weakened foe, already feeling the rush of water rising in his throat. Hardly the energy to react to the torrent of water, let alone to dodge it, Blaze took the attack head on and collapsed to the ground like suffering road kill. A puddle of watery blood gathered within depressions of the battle scarred ground around him, and for the moment, his wounds were clean. Satisfied with this, the totodile leaned forward, balancing precariously on one knee.

Adrian was clearly unhappy with the defeat, but didn't scold Blaze when he was recalled. After all, it had beaten two of the pokémon, and once witnessing the shape of his final opponent, didn't think he would have much trouble finishing this battle within the minute. Waterburn would deal with this whelp rather quickly.

Taking advantage of this cease fire of attacks, I scrambled out of the fence hole and made my way to Joe's side. From farther away I thought he was unconscious, when really, he was just dealing with his pain the way I had: simply sitting there motionless until the worst of the pain past. I noted how tightly his red claws gripped the loose grains of sand. The way Meeko spoke made me want to kick his groin.

"Come on Damion, try to nod it off!" He encouraged meekly.

If Damion had even heard Meeko, he wouldn't have cared, nor obeyed. He only sat on his knee, eyes closed, trying to pinpoint where it hurt the most so he could mentally try to numb it while dealing with the rest of the wound's pain. That was harder thought than done, since it was infection he battled, and the cut stretched all the way across his torso like the giant, dragging bite of a poisonous snake's fang. He didn't even notice when Marc had been released, or when Meeko shouted to him in dismay as the higher ranking pokémon charged at him with swiping claws and snapping jaws.

"Marc, stop!" Even if it worsened my headache, I screamed this out at the top of my lungs. "Don't hurt him, please!"

My begging was ignored. Marc ran on, kicking off a few feet from Damion and bowling the surprised pokémon over in a predator pounce. He slashed his claws across Damion's chest, snorting angrily once he realized that heavy plates of armor protected him from the full wrath of his attack. The touch of a warm liquid brought his attention to the swelling wound on Damion's middle. His smile was the only thing I saw that was somewhat familiar.

"Kick him off, Damion!" I heard Meeko yell, the panic clear in his voice.

He didn't have time. Marc reared back his arm, the claws flashing as if they were the teeth of some striking animal separated from the croconaw's own will. They swooped down in a clean arc, two of the claws faltering at the scales, but one slicing messily through the fleshy cut. It was all that needed to be done. Damion's agonized scream warbled to a whispery moan, a desperate hiss, and then nothing.

Adrian won.


	17. Discovery

Previously on The Changlings... _Ready for the journey through Ilex forest, a restless Meeko neglected to heal his pokémon after his gym battle. Moments before the four were ready to leave, Adrian came into sight from the town's borders, demanding a battle. Since his own pokémon were in need of healing, he was forced to use Jade, Jill, and Joe as if they were his own. The stakes were Jade and Co.'s freedom as uncaptured animals. It was a long and gruesome fight, but the inexperienced were no match for the heavily trained. They lost._

Currently injured: Jade, suffering from multiple degree burns and bruises. Status is Mild Discomfort. Joe, suffering from numerous flesh wounds and a strangling. Status is Mild Discomfort. Jill, suffering from energy/ blood loss. Status is Speedily Recovering. Damion, suffering from deep flesh wounds and infection. Status is Near Death.

Author's Note: I think this is the longest chapter so far. Notice that they're getting longer with each submittion? I don't like it. My only excuse for this one's length is that there's a lot of dialog and explination stuff. I'm proud of how fast I got this one finished, despite how freakishly long it is.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Discovery**

My mind whirled off its hinges. I swear I heard some sort of snap when it flew out the window and into the distance like helicopter blades, scissoring through anything that stood in its path. This loss wouldn't have been so devastating if the stakes weren't our freedom and the cause of it all wasn't our best friend, and in Joe's case, older brother. Through it all I was in a state of shock; the recalling of totodile and croconaw; the departing of half of Meeko's money that could have been used for good food; the groping for an empty pokéball to hold each of us inside. Through it all, I wasn't even looking at it, lost in my thoughts.

_Marc did this to us. He truly doesn't remember us anymore, and he's going to get us in the same mess he's in. I hate him. Hate him so much... _The angel side of my metaphoric shoulder spoke up now, in a quivery, scared voice that would sound much like my own if I tried talking. _It isn't his fault though! Adrian did something to him, and now he's changed for the worse! I feel bad for him. Feel so bad..._

Something grasped my hand, breaking me from my thoughts. I blinked away tears I wasn't aware of, and looked over at who was holding my hand in a palm embrace. When our eyes locked, Joe gave me a weak, comforting smile and a gentle squeeze. He knew before any of us when Marc's teeth were around his throat, that we'd better get used to calling him Waterburn from now on. Marc wasn't in that thing, and never would again. Somehow, when we regained our bodies, we had to find out how to take Marc with us and not that alter ego Waterburn.

"Joe, I'm scared. Adrian said he was gonna catch us if he won. And Meeko agreed with the terms!" My tone of voice switched to angry in the last sentence. Joe's eyes looked so sad.

"S'not Meeko's fault." He rasped, wincing with every word. "We're wild. Free to...to catch whether he won or...not."

Innocent Joe. Even if that innocence was about to fade in a few years to come (especially living with Marc in that time), it still made me gawk at times at his pureness... and naivety. I unlatched his bloody fingers from my own.

"But he still took that risk all the same, honey." Honey. It sounded so older sister-like, but maybe after what we've been through together, comparing our friendship to sibling bonds didn't seem all that inappropriate.

"I still... think he's okay." Joe whispered, his voice failing him. He took a sharp breath and struggled into a sitting position. I tried lowering him back down, but my size and his will prevented me from it. "If I'm getting caught, it won't be lying on the ground."

Meeko suddenly raised his voice to an angry shout. "You shed first blood, Adrian!"

"I may have, but most of the blood on this battlefield belongs to my pokémon. You can't stop me from catching wild pokémon." Adrian retorted without hesitation.

"But they aren't pokémon!"

At this there was a startled pause, and then the outlaw seemed to regain his composure. "They talk like pokémon, the look like pokémon, and although they don't do it very well, they fight like pokémon, too. Tell me they aren't pokémon when you finally gather up the skill enough to beat me in another battle."

To enforce the closing of the conversation, he reached down and took out an empty ball from his belt, pressing the button to enlarge it. He looked up again to aim it at one of us, only to stare into the red knuckles of Meeko's fist. The punch hit him square in the eye, and caught him off guard. He stumbled backwards, the pokéball rolling out of his grip as he fell, and landed straight out on his back. Snarling in pain, Adrian covered his hurt eye with one of his hands, using the other to prop him up on his elbow. One eye glared at the backs of his fleeing enemies, the other leaked tears which smeared hotly against his palm. His normally calm demeanor dissolved with his pride.

"Oh, you little bastard!" He yelled to Meeko as we ran through the door to Ilex forest. His next shout was muffled by the closed door. "Waterburn, come out!"

This was the first time I felt genuine fear of Adrian. Before it had been the fear of getting caught, and when I'd first met him, a feeling of wariness. But now we'd angered a sleeping lion, and it was grumpy as all hell. We had to find a place to hide. Meeko's idea was reckless and stupid, even if it had prolonged our capture.

Jill and I were weak from the fight, so running didn't cut it. Even at only a few weeks old, Joe's body was a heavy burden for Meeko to carry. The trees were super compact, like pieces to a great, endless puzzle, and it was a miracle a narrow path had been carved out for travelers. However, the trees were only super compact to a human's size. Jill and I scattered in opposite directions of Meeko, guilty only because he still held Joe in his arms. Although it was a risk, I didn't get out of sight of Meeko. I was scared, but not stupid enough to get lost.

Meeko stepped around himself in a tight circle, trying to find his own entrance into trees that didn't allow humans passage. He turned to face Adrian as the outlaw rushed through the gate with a noisy clatter. Mar- Waterburn followed behind him like a loyal hound, sniffing and snarling. The red head's eye was already darkening to a shade of purple, while the rest of his face flared red hot.

"Joe, run!" Meeko almost threw the eleven year old into the trees, but the charmander, as wounded as he was, managed a clumsy landing and an even clumsier limp to where Jill was hiding. No sooner had Meeko turned to face Adrian did he feel the taste of his own medicine. This punch was strong and true; a perfect uppercut that snapped his jaw shut. He was flown off his feet, mostly into the air instead of backwards, and landed hard on his back only a couple feet from Adrian. I cringed in horror when the teenager began kicking him in the sides. Memory told me that steel tips were melded in those boots. Sharp ones.

Meeko wasn't even given a chance to curse. He leaned his aching body away from Adrian's kicking range and brushed against the tree's trunks, coughing and calling out to us for help. No one replied. Of course we didn't help him. Joe might have if he wasn't so weak, but one throw of a pokéball and we were vegetables.

"Punch me in the eye, will you?" Adrian sneered with a grumbling shout, aiming kicks at Meeko's chest. "Try to run away from me, will you?"

The helpless boy on the ground pried open his teary eyes. He lashed out with his arms, steely fingers gripping around Adrian's boot and holding him in place. His grin was pained yet smug. "Let's see you try kickin' me now, you son of a bitch."

"Waterburn, attack him!"

_Oh, you wouldn't_- Teeth found their way in his arms before he could even finish thinking the thought. He screamed in pain, releasing his hold, and thrashing on the ground. Known for their immense jaw power, Waterburn's bite was more stubborn than a bull dogs, and twice as damaging. He would break Meeko's arms if commanded to, and do it with one swift crunch of his teeth. Already a shocking amount of blood coated both Meeko's arms.

Thankfully for the boy, the croconaw let go of his arms, where pulsing arteries lay exposed beneath just a thin layer of skin only a few inches away from the bite mark closest to his wrist. He tried getting to his feet, but Waterburn tackled into his tender sides. Had his shirt been a brighter color, we would be able to see small droplet stains of blood where the hits were the hardest. The pokémon's mouth widened to ready for the crippling bite. Meeko saw this, pinned against the trees, and gave his first scream of fear and despair that I'd heard since our first meeting. I held my hands up to my eyes, and then ears, back to my eyes again as tears dripped down the corners. The noise was so real and so scary, far scarier than any scream I'd heard in my days of horror films. I didn't want to hear it- who but the sick and twisted did? - and I felt that I couldn't trust my eyes to look away either. My hands wavered perplexedly from one sense to the other, and then just dug themselves into the temples in between. A slippery moan climbed its way up from the bowels of my soul.

My eyes expected the worst, and were given the best. It was as if time had frozen where Waterburn stood; he was completely still, and very much conscious. A wavery purple aura, much like the wrinkles of heat you see on hot days, clung to his body like it was an intangible navy fire. A dark figure swooped into sight from the path, concealed by the velvet shadows of the forest. The gold ring on its forhead blazed a blaring marigold, while the others sat dorment in spots I couldn't see. The whiteness of its fangs stood out of place in the dark.

I recognized it immediately. One of the intruders from the center, the umbreon, stood on the path, hissing lowly at the humans. The eyes were those plucked from my deepest nightmares. It took slow, deliberate steps, the plants beneath every pawsteps succumbing to the wrath a dark flame. When it was face-to-face with Waterburn, it flicked its folded ears forward.

"You poor child." It almost sang sadly. The umbreon turned its head to a dumbstruck Meeko expectantly, who wasted no time crawling out of harm's way while leaving behind a snail trail of blood. It lessened the psychic attack to a dull throb, weak enough for Waterburn to break free and sink his claws into fleshless air. Snorting in puzzlement, the pokémon swerved his head to look the umbreon in the eye. The creature seemed hypnotized at his own, gaping reflection in the pools of red for a few seconds, and then drooped his great head to the side and lay slumbering against the tree wall. At this point I had dared venture back to the edge of the trees.

Stunned, Adrian reached down for an empty pokéball. His fingers grasped the slick surface, but refused to obey any further. The dark stranger had once again seized control. The human gave a bark of anger, shifting his arm side to side, yet failing to do the same with his hand.

"Let me go!" He snarled, struggling in vain.

"Foolish. I could easily release you, but this unfortunate soul sleeping beside me is cursed to forever writhe in your burning grasp. You're lucky to have such privileges, human." I only wished the stranger's words reached Adrian's ears in English as he whipped his arm free from the paralyzing attack.

The outlaw recalled Waterburn without protest, eyes blank. He expected at any instant for this wild pokémon to take over more than just his hand. Suppose the purple ripples swam through his head? Adrian wasn't too keen on finding out the aftereffects of _that_ experience.

"Taint this forest no longer with the sinful steps you take!" The umbreon growled, padding forward a couple steps.

Adrian took in a small intake of breath through pale lips. It was barely preceptible to the human eye, this shred of visible fear, so Meeko was blind to it until Adrian turned tail and jumped the rotted fence beside the gate. In fact, he was even blind to that, because the real pain was throwing punches at his injuries now, and curling up into a ball was all he could do to keep from crying. They were hurting so much! His arms, his sides, his chest expanded in an unbearable pain that seemed cruel. In his silent agony, he heard the umbreon's pawsteps next to his ear. The bud of fear bloomed in his burning breast.

"Come out hatchlings. I only meant harm to the boy in black." It called to us, and we timidly obeyed, one by one.

Part of me wanted to see this creature again. It was, after all, the one who had stopped its currently absent partner from taking away my sanity, even if its appearence was similar to a demon dog from Hell. It beckoned us over with a nod of its head.

"You're all travelling with this boy," A statement, not a question. It didn't even wait for a reply. "Untreated, these wounds will poison his blood and strike him dead with fever."

"Yeah, well what do you want us to do about it?" Jill snapped, panic stricken at the possibility of another encounter with Adrian.

Lapin shaped ears curled back in irritation. The eyes, however, never changed from their cool complection. "Have either of you developed any affinity with him?"

"A-affinity?" Joe stammered, looking up from Meeko's grimacing face.

"Natural kinship. To love as if you were brothers. Attraction even." I said monotonously, reading the mental definition in my mind. "What's that have to do with anything?"

"My partner has the ability to channel the energy of strong emotions from herself and others for medical usage. A recovery technique, for those with limited vocabulary." It added in with a hasty glance at Joe. "Self recovery works only as well as one's self esteem. If one thinks lowly of oneself, the recovery does little to heal the injury. In this case, to heal someone else, the power of love for this boy is the key to his full recovery."

"Well, better go find his parents or something, because none of us are particularly fond of him. I just don't want him to die." What I said was harsh, but every word was true. Fourteen was too young in my book. Give him a few years, age fourty or something, and then let him die however he pleases.

"No white souls are without dark stains." The pokémon said wisely, bending its face beside Meeko.

Sensing its presence, Meeko pried open his eyes groggily. They widened a great deal, and still they were overwhelmed by the umbreon's red eye reflection. He moaned through clenched teeth, the tears coming freely now. Even in such pain, he was aware enough to be ashamed. His damp cheeks flushed rose.

"Can he stand?" The stranger asked, eyes still locked on Meeko's.

"He might... but I don't think he'd be able to walk for a long time." Joe said, already scribbling the question next to the human's face.

Meeko was comforted that we were more scared for his well being and chanced a look at Joe's message. He frowned sourly, uprooting some stray tears and sending them tumbling down to his chin.

"I can't stand. My... my side hurts really bad." He wheezed, squinting his eyes at the thought of it. "There's this sharp pain in... in my chest whenever I breathe, too. It feels so... tight."

"Take off his... outer skin. I want to see the side that hurts the most." The dark creature furrowed its brow solemly. It didn't even regard what Meeko was saying.

"My right side." Meeko gasped once he read the question. His face was shadowed in fear, and his voice cracked under its pressure. "It's getting harder to breathe."

Joe and I gently pulled at both sides of the black shirt until they rested at Meeko's armpits, Jill's vines and the umbreon's paws too clumsy for the job. I noted that he wasn't wearing his shabby red vest from when we first met him. He must have lost it at one point before our reunion. The stranger, as if he hadn't heard Meeko at all, asked again for the hurting side.

"His right." I said, tucking the question in the back of my mind for later.

The stranger craned his head down at the boy's purple and swollen skin. It reminded me of Marc's poison wound, though I highly doubted Adrian would go so far as to putting venom on his boot's tips. There was a faint ridge where his ribs waved across his upper hips, but at one of the first few faltered in this oceanic pattern. The bruise it left behind was uglier than all the others, most likely where he was hit twice in the same spot. I thought it was a broken rib.

"I will not pretend to be a... _duckter_. He is hurting more than we know, but I can't find the cause of it. It would help immensely if I knew his symptoms." The umbreon sighed, oblivious to the fact that Meeko had already told them to us. "Shimmertail would know. Come. I must take you all to her."

"Hold on here!" I squeaked angrily, careful to avoid those eyes that stole away my courage. "The last time I saw you, your little friend was doing...something bad to my head, and you let her do it! Do you really think I'm going to follow you after that?"

"Guys, please!" Meeko said, although it sounded more like a whisper than speech. His chest heaved, each rise forcing a contraction of pain to skitter across his face. Jill walked over and looked at the bruises worriedly.

"I stopped her from leeching away your sanity before. She requested something entirely different." The umbreon countered, actually sounding a bit hurt. It nodded its head in Meeko's direction. "The most fatal of wounds are the ones you cannot see. They slowly eat away at your body from the inside, like the invisble flesh eating creatures, and you only take notice of this inner wound once the damage is done. If you choose not to trust me, then shame on you and your party for allowing this teenage boy to die young."

"They aren't that bad, Umbreon!" I snarled, craning my head back to chance a gaze into its eyes. I quailed internally at the sight of them, but didn't dare show it on the outside. "One of his ribs is broken, and there's also some issues with the bite wounds, but that's all. Go back to your mate and leave us alone!"

Now it was the stranger's turn to show its anger. The eyes never changed, no matter what the emotion, even if the rest of its face showed them off freely. The gold ring on its forhead flickered on again.

"Ignorant pest! I speak of blood leaking from the veins still captive beneath the skin, invading body parts that should never feel blood's caress. It is quite lethal, foolish rodent, and I should have half the mind to leave you to find out for yourself!" It hissed savagely, swiping at the ground at my feet.

I cowered silently, lowered to the ground and shaking in fear. Its anger had invaded my head, like a hurricane which lacked an eye, and I was consumed in the thick clouds. I struggled to talk.

"It would help...if I knew your name."

It heaved a great sigh, the yellow ring fading back into fur. Once it did, the swell of angry emotion was brisked out of my mind.

"My name is Shadowveil, little hatchling, and I beg your pardon for losing my temper on one so young. After all, thirteen years is but the dawn of a life's day." The umbreon said, smiling at the puzzled look on my face. "Yes, your mysterious age is one thing Shimmertail was able to collect without any damage. Along with many other things as well. However, this discussion shall be saved for a time when there is plenty to spare. Make haste when I move, you three, because posession of another's body leaves me helpless to protect you from predators."

"Poses--?" Jill started, but shut her mouth when Shadowveil began working its black magic, all golden rings blazing as if carved from metal. Meeko's face froze in horror at some unseen power, and slowly, at such a pace it was almost unoticable, his eye color turned red. The pain sheeting over his features dissolved, and he clumsily reached a hand up to wipe the sweat from his upper lip and nose.

"This may do more harm than good," Meeko said lowly. Whether it was in English or pokémon, I couldn't see the difference. "Meeko's body is still hurting, even when his mind is at rest. We must hurry."

-scene change-

It is extremely hard to keep track of how long you've been wondering on a forest path, Ilex forest expecially. There is absolutely no sunlight that escapes through the tree tops once you get deep enough, so you had to reply on your sense of hearing rather than sight. Easy for me, and hell for Jill, who lacked keen ears and didn't have her own torch to light the way. She got the bad end of this transformation, and she wanted the world to know it.

"Hey! Wait for me, would you? It's bad enough that I'm in the back of the line! I can't see, I can't hear---" It all became an irksome buzz that I eventually tuned out. True, she was at the highest risk of getting picked off, but there was the possibility of me catching a predator before it got to us if she would just keep her mouth shut.

Shadowveil, whom I'm going to assume is a 'he' from now on, was distracted by nothing. His eyes were gone, and in their place were a pair of shapeless, black forms. They writhed like fog but looked as solid as normal eyes. Meeko's eyes assisted his other blind half, and a beckon for Joe to go to the front helped some too. All of them looked so tired... Meeko's breathing was becoming harsher, and he paused to cough violently more than just once.

"How much further?" Joe panted, rubbing his sore neck tenderly.

"Not far." Meeko replied.

While we we asking the questions, I joined in as well. "How'd you know his name was Meeko back there?"

"His subconcious is open to me. Things that the subconcious knows, such as their name, breathing, how to walk on two legs, and so on show themselves to me as if it were my own sunconscious." Meeko explained, taking only brief pauses to breathe in. "That is how I can posess beings. The conscious mind is far too guarded for one to seize control of that. However, the subconscious, the one that sleeps, has but the smallest of mental barriers. Had it been up to me, I wouldn't stop to cough, or other things Meeko would have wanted to do at that instant."

_Neat._ I thought, hardly staying with him after the third 'onscious'.

"So, if Meeko still has his conscious mind, can't he, uh... 'break free' from your control?" Joe asked.

"He is no fool." Was Meeko's only answer.

It was quiet after that, the ghost's of Meeko's strange yet not strange voice fluttering around the path. Jill lumbered up from behind me, out of breath.

"How...do you know...Shadowveil?" The chikorita puffed curiously. Joe turned his head around to listen, slowing his walk.

"Um... Well, it was at the center before, when we were taking naps. Him and his girlfriend-"

"She is _not_ my mate. I chose to ignore the mistake before, but it is now grating my nerves. Think of me as a parental figure."

"-Anyway, they came into the room and his -girlfriend- started taking away my memories, what I'd learned...everything up here." I tapped my forehead twice. "Then Shadowveil stopped her, and they both disappeared."

"So why were you being all pissy about him helping us back there?" Jill prodded.

"I don't know, Jill! Maybe since Marc left I became the leader of this group or something, so when that leadership got chal-"

"'Leadership'? Jade, there is no _leadership_ when it comes to fighting for survival. That may have been the case for Marc, but it isn't with someone six inches tall." Jill growled hotly. "So unless you change this attitude of yours, you're won't fair any better than him."

The truth in her statement filled my mouth with cotton.

"Stop." Meeko said flatly, after a few minutes more of walking down the path. He reached a hand up, placing it across his chest. "This tautness... It grows. His breathing is becoming constricted. I am beginning to suspect that Within Bleeding isn't the cause of his pain."

"Think it has anything to do with him walking around like this? Why can't uh... Shimmerfur come to us?" Joe said to the sightless puppet that was Shadowveil.

"Shimmertail," The boy corrected. "hasn't a sense of direction. She could feel your distress from a distance, but I am the only one who can pinpoint what she senses. ...I'm sorry. I can't keep talking. His breathing is shallow."

"How much longer, then?" Jill pressed, running to the umbreon's paws.

"Very soon." I surprised myself by answering and actually giving a truthful explination. "Can't you feel that? Lost. Confused. All those feelings."

Meeko looked down over his shoulder at me, slowing down. "Ah, so you can sense her presence... as well. This may be caused by her... invasion in your mind."

"_Shadowveil..."_

"What was that?" Joe stopped dead at the voice that was not a voice. It simply erupted in his head, baring a slight feminine tone. The name gave birth to letters that scrolled across his mind.

"That is how Shimmertail speaks... from far away. You were in the way... during connection. It is... quite strong for mental speech. She is within earshot. Call to her." Meeko gasped, pressing his fingers ever tighter to his chest.

We needn't have bothered. Shimmertail appeared on her own as a glimmer of pure lavender radiance. Unlike her fatherly figured partner, the sight of her brought forth a sense of immense calm, as well as a type of alien terror. She was too beautiful for this earth.

Her fur was flawless, so flawless that I wanted to stroke it to make sure that it wasn't some sort of smooth skin. The ears were large and just as appealing to the fingers. Tuffs of whiskery fur sagged underneath where her ears ended. The espeon's eyes, I'm sure, used to be just as pretty as the rest of her, but now they were hollow gray craters filled with nothing. The gem on her head shed ruby blood over the clearing.

"Shadowveil!" Shimmertail's actual voice betrayed the magestic body it lay in. She was probably just reaching adulthood in pokémon years, give or take six years apart from me and Jill as a human. A simple teenager with a pretty face and an ugly soul, was my first impression from that voice. It was a 'what took you so long, I was waiting forever' type of tone, and I instantly didn't like it. What chilled me to the bone was the fact that it sounded so goddamn _familar_.

Shimmertail bounded over to Meeko, noticing the strain on the boy's flushed face and the haunted blackness that was her partner's eyes. She narrowed her own. "Shadowveil, what are you doing in that body? He is a human; he should be able to deal with the pain."

"Not... this type." Meeko hissed, snapping up air as if it were bits of moving prey. "His breathing. The pain in his chest. It is beginning to affect his subconscious as well."

Shadowveil's body stumbled a bit as the human said this, chest heaving. Shimmertail looked at the umbreon in fear disguised as mock irritation. "Then get out of the body, you old fool, before you get yourself killed."

"No." Meeko shook his head stubbornly. "If I leave now, he will stop taking in air. One of the breathers pains us greatly. You must heal him."

"I have no love for this boy," She snarled, her gem glistening. "he who is killing you with his own broken body."

"You would see to it that he dies? In reality, Shimmertail, he has only seen... but fourteen summers. It is quite unfair that you of nineteen would... decide if fourteen is a high enough number." Meeko said in a disappointed tone. "After all, he is travelling with the pichu you took lethal interest in. The least you could do is heal her friend for nearly killing her."

"You hush." She growled, taking a step towards Shadowveil's kneeling body. "Even if I wanted to heal him, I couldn't. He has no loved ones present."

"Actually, he does." Jill pointed out, walking to Meeko's legs. "Damion. It's the best we've got here."

Meeko smiled at her wit, reaching down to his belt and fumbling with the pokéball Meeko's subconscious told him held Damion inside. Shimmertail recoiled at the sight of the machine, fur bristled and teeth bared. Such a mystery, these two were!

Several seconds more were wasted trying to release Damion. When he did figure it out, however, we found that our plan had neglected the condition of the totodile. Prior releasing of the pokéball, Damion fell to his knees and held his stomach close, refusing to move. He was in need of healing, too. Blood flooded from the flayed part of his wound that Waterburn's claws had gripped hold of and tore anew.

"Keep him conscious." The espeon ordered, padding her way closer to Meeko. She waited for Shadowveil to lie on his back, and then closed her eyes. Her neck craned out close to the human's face, breathing in his sharp breaths. The crystal in between her eyes twinkled like a dying star. "Flesh wounds, risk of infection. Numerous bruising, cause of mild internal bleeding. Broken upper rib on right side, very severe. Ah, this is the source of his pain... Silly creature, the rib has torn a hole in the boy's lung. From the looks of it, it is very large. I am assuming that it will collapse when you leave his body."

"A punctured lung?" My stomach tightened in disgust. I had never truly understood what happened when the lung was punctured, but I did know the hair curling cure: sticking a tube through the victims chest and... reinflating it like a balloon. If the punture was left alone long enough without that, the lung caved in on itself, and none of us needed that at the moment.

Shimmertail nodded carefully, eyes still hypnotically shut. "He breaths in... and the air escapes through the hole, where air doesn't belong. This is not something to ignore at such severity." Her eyes pried open, and fixed themselves on the red coloring of Meeko's eyes. "Leave his body when I say, Shadow. Falter, and my energy shall be wasted on you."

"C'mon, Damion, stay awake. How many battles have you fought in? How many did you win?" Joe said too loudly, gripping him by the shoulders. The wounded pokémon, slick with fever, leaned forward and rested against the charmander. The heat sickened Joe, and he struggled to keep them both up straight.

"Lost count..." The totodile slurred, dripping in and out of gibberish. "...Won most've'em. Cep'that crocanaw... Bea' me good."

"Okay. Do you like Meeko?" Joe asked hopefully. "Because he really needs you right now. He needs you to be his friend."

Damion chuckled thickly. "That's all, uh? N'battles, er..er fightin'... Jus' t'be his friend... Sure. C'do that..."

"Go now, Shadowveil," The healer cried, red orb flashing blue. A mini world of soft lightning swooped about inside the small exclosure.

Like an evil spirit, a dark aura ripped itself away from Meeko, dragging the body upward before it gave one final tug and severed the connection. Shadowveil crawled to his feet, taking great, healthy breaths of air. Bubbles of something, little spheres of jade, fluttered from Damion's body, and reemerged themselves inside Meeko, primarily the chest area. The terrified human, mouth widened for breaths that wouldn't come, slowly shut it and closed his eyes in bliss. The bubbles gathered at the bite wounds on Meeko's arms, like bacteria blown up in size. They ate away at the hurt, weaved back together torn flesh, and crawled under the skin to replace lost blood. Never in his life had Meeko felt so relieved and happy. A couple tears fell from his face, and then his eyes went dry.

As perfect as this scene seemed, the bubbles were running shallow already, even with some unintentional help from Joe. Without even thinking about it, Jill and I ran into the recovery range, adding our own extremely small amount of love we had for Meeko. It was so small, it looked almost comical, but miraculously helped get important parts of the job done.

It was bitterly short, from Meeko's point of view. He wanted that healing to continue on until he was the purest of beings, purged of sickness and dirtiness of the soul. The energy we all had to offer ran dry before this point, even before the green spheres had a chance to mend the worst of his bruises. Part of it was because Damion passed out mid-healing. The boy, blinking groggily, hugged his arm against the side that caused the worse pain, where the rib had broken. Those spheres did well. Nothing serious remained beneath the skin. Only his sore bruises sobbed at his finger's touch.

"I can't... thank you enough." Meeko gave us the first real smile since he found out we were human.

"Sure," I wiped away his words with a careless wave of my hand at Damion, looking up at Shimmertail. "Healing Damion should be easier, right? I mean, Meeko's not gonna pass out or anything."

"That's correct. Infection is quite simple to cure actually, mainly at this early a stage of sickness. The wound has not even begun to emit a stench." Shimmertail stated, turning her head to the feverish totodile leaning over Joe's shoulder. "You merely need to hope that humans have as much love for their pokémon as the pokémon, them."

Damion's healing was much longer than that of his trainer's (about five minutes), despite the fact that Meeko required more of it. The recovery needed to search through his bloodstream for the infectious germs, riding with the arteries and attacking poisoned veins before they could taint the heart. Meeko had plenty of energy to give before and after the healing, which struck me something odd. Concious or not, I was sure the love Damion had to offer was pitifully low in comparison to his human partner. Why didn't he like Meeko as much?

_**To be forced into battle with your own kind. To face fears that the human would never dream of confronting. To endure great pain for the benefit of your trainer's pride. It gets to us after a while.**_

My trip to Six Flags. My best Christmas. The joy I felt when I got my kitten. They were all fed to my Shadow Voice, and it spit back foul waste. Six Flags wasn't as fun because I had to babysit most of the time. The Christmas only got my mother in debt. The only pet I ever had I was allergic to and had to be given away. It wasn't a pleasent mood stabilizer. At least that hollow coldness was gone for the time being.

Damion, even healed, would not wake. Shimmertail explained that long periods of healing often had that effect- to cast the lucky victim into a dreamless slumber, and wouldn't regain his consciousness for another hour or so.

"We will rest until your human is ready to travel again." Shadowveil said, nodding his head to a groggy eyed Meeko. "Neither of us are in a hurry. We often help the lost when their owl guides are incompetent for the job."

"Well, I'm a little lost about this whole thing, really." I admitted as I scribbled in a quick 'we'll leave when you want to' message for Meeko to read. "Like, why you two came to the center today, why you watch over Shimmertail all the time, and how Shimmertail knew about those medical terms like internal bleeding. I also felt... so confused around her. I still do, a bit. Why's that?"

Both eons turned their snouts to each other, nodded, and looked back down at us. Uninterested with our talk, Meeko began to doze.

"Hatchlings... You have been in this world for far too short a time to learn the truth about man and their machines, about the endless spiral of mysteries and the intertwining of different universes, and yet in a way you aren't." Shadowveil began, lowering himself to the ground. "The espeon you see before you now was not always as formal as me. Such a habit of speech was adopted. We met as eevees, one under the curse of a trainer, the other a feral creature. Fate had been cruel to this little female, in more ways than I could ever imagine.

"I can only assume that her lifetime was one of sheer terror before a human captured her. She realized the hard way how much damage a simple sphere can do once you're inside it."

"It takes away everything." Shimmertail shuddered, drooping her ears. "My memories, my knowledge... It is as if you had become an infant again, except having developed enough a mind to remember it all clearly. From the instant I gave in to that pokéball, it ripped away parts of my past life."

"Hence, the process of training a pokémon, in trainer term. The confused and senseless pokémon at first is rebellious to the human, at least until the full realization of what has happened to them sinks in. They can disobey and misbehave as much as they wish, but they would never regain what that cursed pokéball took away. From a human's point of view, this sign of loyalty is developing affection. To the pokémon it is a sign of defeat. After all, should the human be so cruel as to releasing them, they would be lost in a strange world, left to be picked off by predators before the thought of starvation can even brush through the victim's head.

"So naturally, when I found this nameless eevee who fled from her trainer, I agreed to take her under my wing. I named her Shimmertail, and for weeks we travelled together, as I retaught her the ways of survival. Our friendship triggered evolution, one by day, the other by the nothingness of night. It was after her change into an espeon that she began to have flashbacks of her past (this resulted in an oddly foreign vocabulary of words, such as _duckter)_, and that feeling of confusion grew, borderlining insanity. Insanity, hatchlings. All the effects of a simple capture.

"A week had gone by by the time Shimertail sensed you three in Azelea. She pleaded with me to find you, at least see you in person, because you made her feel more normal than she had since capture. I agreed to let her see only one, and she chose you, Pichu. Instead of just brushing over the surface of your mind as she had asked, she dug deep, and wished to steal away your memories to fill the empty spots in her own. Had she succeeded, you would be in a coma right now."

"And for that I beg forgiveness." Shimmertail bowed her head shamefully. I didn't answer, so the umbreon continued the tale before Shimmertail realized that her apology had been rejected.

"It was this search through your mind that opened up some locks within Shimmertail, quite possibly on the path to full mental recovery. What she told me was very disturbing: she claimed she could read the human language, and even spell out some of the words in the dirt. This is not common in our kind at all; pokémon are meant to be illiterate creatures."

"What's so special about that? We can all read and write too." Jill commented.

"That is correct. And when did you learn such talents?" Shimmertail prodded hungrily.

"Well, when we went to school and...and..." Joe's eyes had never looked bigger. "When we were human."

Shimmertail breathed out a relieved sigh.

"You are not alone in this fight for your bodies back, hatchlings." She said quietly. "For once upon a lifetime... I used to be a human too."


	18. Meeting of the Seer

Previously on The Changlings... _Forced to flee or be captured, Meeko and the wounded trio run into Ilex forest, hoping to hide from Adrian until the trainer lost interest. The trees too tightly compressed for Meeko to find a good place to run in time, he was attacked by human and croconaw until a familiar umbreon intervened before things got lethal. Hoping to heal Meeko, the umbreon led them all to his espeon partner, a daughter-like figure he nurtured after she fled from her trainer. After a healing between Damion and Meeko, they explained what happened to a pokémon prior capture, concluding the talk with a shocking fact: that the espeon, Shimmertail, was once human..._

Currently Injured: Jade, suffering from burns and bruises. Status is mild discomfort. Joe, suffering from several aches and bruises. Status is mild discomfort.

Author's Note: Okay, before I mention anything else, lemme put in a good word for BFoS, 'cause it was his birthday on the 14th of October! Happy Birthday, dude. I tried to get this in on Sunday, but the length made a few days late. -sweatdrop- There isn't much action in these chapters, because it's more of a huge explination of some questions that I'm trying to cram into one or two chapters. There is most likely things I've forgotten to mention in these chapters, so don't be surprised if I mention an edit or two later on in the future.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Meeting of the Seer**

That was how we found out the mysteries of our worlds. As Stephen King had mentioned in an amazing book series of his, the only way to travel to another border lining world is to either go through a certain passageway, or by death. Obviously, we were brought here by death, the mew taking the scenic route of the trip. Our universe was but a single point on an infinite grid of different worlds. There must have been hundreds upon thousands of worlds that brushed against ours, and sometimes the ideas of that world escaped into the minds of a being when they were born, because at that instant the barriers between that certain universe and our own was thin. Be it by a television show, fictional books, cultures and religions; the idea, at some point in that being's life, awakens from the subconscious it was sleeping in and expresses itself. That was why this entire universe had been made into a little kid show. All because one person decided to come into this world at the time the two worlds were nearly touching.

So how did all of this connect to Shimmertail becoming pokémon? How in holy hell did Shadowveil know about the relationship between the universes? What really happens inside a pokéball? No idea whatsoever. The knowledge of this universe thing was mind boggling enough, and I didn't want anything else to brood about.

"How come you wouldn't listen to Meeko before?" Joe queried, the last questions of this talk coming to a close.

At first Shadowveil looked puzzled, and then that familiar face of all knowing came back. "We who were born pokémon don't understand human speech very well. There are only keywords that we listen for when a human is speaking. A tamed pokémon knows more keywords than the untamed, along with the attacks the trainer calls to them. When Meeko was talking at the forest entrance, I knew what he was saying was important. I merely assumed that you three couldn't understand him either, at least until you scribed to him the questions I was asking."

"The other one who was traveling with you. Who was he, Jade?" Shimmertail almost interrupted to ask this sudden question.

"Huh? How did-?"

"When I tried taking away your memories," Shimmertail cut off impatiently. "The ones I saw with mental 'sight' I can still remember. There was another of you before, a human within an animal. Why is he not standing here among us?"

"Oh..." I sighed at the memory. "His name was Marc. He was captured by that trainer Shadowveil chased off."

"Shadowveil has sent me an image of this boy. He trains his pokémon with fist and steel boot tip, yes?"

"What? Oh right, yeah. He abuses them." I confirmed, shifting on my feet. I didn't want to keep talking about this.

"Then it would be wise to steer away from confrontations with Marc. No matter how primitive he may act, he is still smart. When in need of his trainer's voice, he will understand what that boy tells him. Should it even come to the need for... -Adien, Shadowveil? That's right, Adrian-Adrian to tell him what to do, he will most likely tell Marc to kill."

"If you say Marc's so smart, why doesn't he remember us?" Joe seethed in self frustration. "I mean, a pokéball can't do that much, can it?"

"You'd be surprised," Shadowveil said, motioning his head in Shimmertail's direction. "how the soul reacts when it makes such close contact with an unworldly item. That machine, from the instant an organism is inside it, tries to bind the unlucky creature within itself. The wires turns to flesh, the flesh turns to wires. Pokémon and pokéball become one."

"Even when I separated myself from the wretched thing, I can always feel its pull. It calls to me like a magnet, and yet my body is repelled from it at the same time. This feeling can be very tiring. I sleep often to keep up my strength." The espeon said, trying to keep her tone of helpless sadness in check. She nodded for Shadowveil to continue.

Understanding in his face features (never his eyes), Shadowveil resumed his talk. "For everyone naturally born in this universe, or at least this Earth from what I know, our souls have...evolved over a time, if you don't mind me using such a term of religious questioning. The edges of our being have spaces in them that needn't ever be filled. Should that day ever come, however, it would fit perfectly in sync with the machine. It makes their change less drastic. Memories are still lost, from what Shimmertail and I have witnessed, but it is a sort of blissful unknowing. The captive cares not about what happened in its past life, and looks ahead to see into the future. These 'puzzle piece ridges of the soul' are what your friend and Shimmertail lack. The bond was forceful, _billdohzing_ away parts of the soul to make room. As you have seen, the effects are all but pleasant."

"Um, hold on, what? I'm lost." Jill asked, Joe nodding at her puzzled statement.

"None of us humans can't get captured without something getting screwy in the process." I translated. "Others can without any major issues."

"In simpler terms, yes." Shadowveil agreed, rising to his feet. "Now come. Your human is waking."

Just as he said this, Meeko shifted his position and yawned pleasantly, stretching his arms out with a groan. He opened his eyes and stared around with the confused, dimly lit eyes of someone who wasn't sure if they were still in the rift of a dream. They soon lost their sleepy shine as he realized where we still were.

"Ah, hell." He watched us all get to our feet, and reluctantly did the same, rubbing away any lingering bits of sleep that dared stay behind in his eyes. There was another yawn, which soon spread to Joe, then to Jill, and then me. "Where are we going anyway?"

Joe shrugged, the only one with the ability without making himself fall over. I repeated the question to the eons.

"We're leaving the forest, heading for the large city beyond. That is your destination, correct?" Shimmertail asked, swerving her head back.

"Uh, yeah." I clarified, and her lilac head once again was out of sight.

Fear didn't come to me at first because of our powerful guardians watching over us. Now though, as they led the way, their eyes were blind to what lay at the rear, and silence crept up from behind. It took on a greater hold than talons would, or claws, or fangs. It brought with it not the serenity of the quiet, but the chilling terror of the unknown. A hidden assassin could be lurking not two feet behind me, and was about to strike through my body with needle claws. It sent my hair on end, knowing that at any moment I would be facing a fatal blow. The forest was dangerous to someone just a little larger than a coffee mug.

I scurried to Shimmertail's ankles, and she gave me another one of those 'about time you did that' faces. God, how I hated that face so much! It was apparent that Shimmertail wasn't and still isn't like the formal talking voice that comes from her mouth at all.

I could actually tell that it was getting darker, even with the trees blocking out the sunlight. Joe's tail flame got brighter as time went on, as if trying to distract the shreds of light present by dancing ever fiercer to keep it entertained. This desperate dancing was in vain. Soon his tail's light stretched far out before us, tendrils of flickering shadows leaping across the path of pine needles and dead leaves. The fire unlocked a secret nightmare world, unveiling what would should have stayed hidden, yet still shrouding everything dark enough for the fear of the unknown to linger.

I don't care what you say: it's human nature to fear what you don't know, and what lies beyond the dark is an endless mystery. If I were to put you in a very dimly lit room, just illuminated enough for your eyes to betray you, that sense of vulnerability, that throbbing panic in your chest, will overcome. It takes the uninformed and dimwitted to lack a fear of the dark.

"Will we get out of here before night?" I asked Shadowveil, firmly telling myself to keep the fright out of my voice.

"No."

"Then, uh... When are we stopping to spend the night?" Already the threads of weariness were beginning their inconstant tugs.

"Where it is safe. At the halfway point of this forest, a shrine rests. Many a time Shimmertail and I have slept there without the need for a watch."

"How much further?" An irritable whine shot out of my lips before I could control myself. That was almost as obnoxious as asking 'are we there yet?' on long car rides. These yammerings were tiresome to those in earshot.

"We'll get there when we get there, all right Jade?" Jill grumpily replied from behind. "You're not the only one tired here."

"Hey," Meeko interjected before this discussion took the ugly turn towards an argument. "No offense to you two, but your voices get really annoying after a while. Shut up."

Abashed into sheepish obedience, the only noise came from our breathing and footsteps. This period of silence lasted the rest of the way to...where ever it was we were headed, which was maybe about half an hour, forty-five minutes of walking. Our guides never faltered along the path, at least Shadowveil didn't. Shimmertail stood but a few pawsteps behind the umbreon, mimicking his every move and turn. Shadowveil was right about her sense of direction. Without him to lead, she would be as clueless as we were.

Walking long distances wasn't so much a problem during our time here until now. The after pains of my fight crept up and was upon me as smoothly and unexpectedly as my fear had. The burns on my legs and shoulder blades, where the charred skin stretched as I took steps, cried out in a stinging chorus. The ones on my hands were... what? That wasn't _blood_ on my palms, was it? It was impossible to tell in such darkness, and the only skin exposed enough to determine wetness was numb.

"You complain very much, Jade. Like the boy." Shimmertail commented with a smile. "Your thoughts are yellow and gray. Impatience and exhaustion, I am assuming."

"Hey Shimmer? Get out of my head."

The creature chuckled silkily and was quiet. Creepy little mind reader.

-scene change-

"Stop. We have arrived."

A ripple of relief shuddered through most of the party of six. Excluding the two eons, we all toppled to the ground, eyes closing, breaths softening. Shadowveil gave us an emotionless stare, something we all sensed but didn't see, and turned to look up at what he claimed would watch over us for the night.

"I don't know guys. A shack this small would give me a bad ache in my neck the next morning." Meeko joked, taking his hat off and scratching through his matted hair.

It was roughly the size of a small bathroom, and looked like a disused log cabin. Cobwebs draped over the unstable steps leading up to the top, where a pair of lonely candles sat on the wood floor, unlit. Sap, pine needles, and brown leaves did what dust was doing inside the shrine-concealing everything, hiding what must have been beautiful. Amidst the forest debris, a lone sculpture no taller than two feet struggled to brave the leaves and green mold slowly swallowing the gray color up. It was difficult to say what the statue was, though it looked like it was kneeling down in pray. The sight of it all was somehow saddening. Like that tourist attraction at the Ruins of Alph, this structure had once been proud and lovely, but was now dying out of neglect.

Shimmertail swiped away a section of leaves with her front paw, scattering them over the steps and to the ground. She sighed in remorse, lowering herself to join the fallen leaves in a lazy, catlike sleeping pose, sitting on her side and showing off the underbelly beneath. I recalled that this was how I had- and sometimes still caught myself doing-slept, since it was as human as our strange spines would allow without too much pain. When I thought about it, it should have been fairly obvious that she was human in her past life. The way she talked had human terms we'd all taken for granted and it held a faint 'human' accent to it, the way an accent, however smaller it becomes over the years, never leaves an immigrant.

"Shadowveil tells me this place was once worshipped by the townsfolk of Azalea, before they all grew plump and lazy. It was a shrine to honor the-"

"-Voice of the Forest." I finished for Shimmertail, and received surprised glances from both the canines. My voice lowered to an embarrassed mumble, shamefully aware that Joe and Jill were listening. "It was from a pokémon movie I saw a couple years back..." _When I should have outgrown the genre twice as long ago._

"It still amazes me how our old life knows so much of this world," Shimmertail commented mildly. "And yet failed to mention the shadow it casts. That leaves discord among the universe. Everything needs a shadow, or it cannot _be_ properly."

I shivered internally. What she said tolled a bell deep inside my subconscious, warning me that this bit of information was important, but it retreated to the nothing before I could fully grasp it.

"Enough talk of the universes for tonight, everyone." Shadowveil said calmly. If he was as tired as I was, he didn't show it. "If we are quiet, a visitor will come. He is a dear friend of mine that I wish to see. He has been absent for an alarming amount of time, and I am worried."

"Do you talk of the seer, Shadowveil? Put your worried mind at rest, because his presence invades my thoughts, as he does with every visit." The espeon smiled ruefully. "So much for sleep."

"This visit will be brief, Shimmertail. Then we may sleep." Shadowveil promised, eagerly getting back to his paws.

"Who's the seer? What _is_ a seer?" Jill pondered, but the dark creature ignored her.

He flicked his ears at the shrine, eyes set on a dirt streaked window to the far right. A vandal had thrown a stone at the center of the glass long ago, and left behind a small hole which had cracks traveling from it like exposed, empty veins. They seemed to move pallidly to the rhythm of Joe's firelight.

"Why is he in the shrine?" Shadowveil growled uneasily, gently nudging the door as if he were a hungry stray.

"Well, go in there and ask him." I said sleepily, eyes closing.

"No, he only retreats to it when he is frightened. My friend! Come greet us and tell of your troubles!" Even at a shout, his voice was cool, controlled.

_She will kill me... She will wrap her hands around my throat and kill me._

The ghost voice and feeling of terror sliced into my head like a nightmare. This fright morphed into frantic anger, spreading thickly across my brain. I tore away from drowsiness with a yelp, and still the bad dream remained, draped over my mind. I snarled in fright and scratched wildly at my forehead.

"These strangers mean you no harm." Shimmertail hissed, also rubbing away at her forehead.

_They aren't strangers. She will kill me._

The cloak of the seer's seething became heavier. My snarls got louder, as did Shimmertail, and the umbreon showed the first glint of raw emotion in his eyes.

"I will not grant you pardon for discomforting Shimmertail merely because of your youth, Cel. Cease this infantile behavior and please teleport."

_She will kill me..._

This was close to a wail a voice in my head could muster, and the invading presence scurried away. I shook myself to be sure that everything was normal again, resisting the urge to lick down fluffed up parts of my fur.

The first thing that foreshadowed wrongness was the fact that a thick cloud of purple replaced what should have been a translucent white smog. It birthed from nothing, wavering into sight as a swirling black violet, and hummed sickeningly loud in my ears. From the shadowy void that was the teleport portal came another purple mass, perfectly in sync with the cyclone twirl of where it came out of. The form settled itself on the ground, a simple addition to the portal that sagged and touched the earth. Almost shyly, much like a house guest about to leave but lost at what to say, the portal caved in on itself, ripping away Cel's concealing dark blanket.

Meeko, already in an interested sitting position when the portal appeared, fell backwards and scrambled away from the visitor, digging his heels and palms into the ground to move. A hand groped wildly at his belt for an empty pokéball that wasn't there. I could hear him whispering a swear under unmoving lips, over and over until he had to take another breath. He did, and held it. Shadowveil was stiff where he stood, silent shock caging over his face.

The celebi was a monster. A mutant of his former self he was, on his knees in a pitiful ball, arms folded in a tight L over his tragedy of a face. His skin had a plum color to it, gently intertwining with the light green skin that managed to survive such a drastic change of body. Seeing him from his side, I was able to spot the mouth, perpetually parted to make room for the countless thin needles of teeth. The kneecaps he was doubling over had four evenly spaced black claws on the rims that supported the knees like legs on a chair, preventing them any true touch of the earth. His delicate wings were now useless scraps of tattered, purple membrane, with a clumsy wingspan of three feet. The antennae atop his head were spiked, dark green horns that coiled loosely over themselves until they looked like they were stolen from a big horned sheep. From what I could see, the dark outline around his eyes had pointed a bit, but that was all.

Finally, the umbreon found a voice. It was trembling and fragile, still laced with that horrified shock. "M-my friend... What-?"

"Don't sully your eyes with my appearance, Shadowveil." When he talked, it was the voice of a scared, miserable little boy, older than my voice and younger than Joe's. The unnatural teeth gave him a small lisp. "It seems we have both changed from the creatures we hatched as."

"Our evolution is unimportant. What of you, Cel? What being did this to you?" Shimmertail whimpered, ears flat against her head.

"I did this to myself, Shimmertail." The creature opened his eyes, the only thing that hadn't been affected by the change. He sat up and balanced on his clawed knees, turning his head to look me in the eye. (_They were bright green eyes, brimmed with sadness and sympathy..._)

I held back a cry of recognition. The dream. It was him. The soothsayer who'd looked into the future and flipped the coin of this cruel little game.

"I broke one of the rules of nature..." Cel explained, shifting his hurt eyes to the ground. "I looked beyond fate."


	19. Shadows Revealed

Previously on The Changlings... _Oh God. Don't make me summarize boring chitchat, part 1. PLEASE. Just go skim it or something. -twitch twitch- _

Currently Injured: Jade, Jill and Joe suffering sores, burns (for Jade), and bruises. Status is all Speedily Recovering.

Author's Notes: Thus do I conclude the second part of a chapter that no one really understands, but nod thoughtfully and review and pretend they do anyway! Yay! XD To be honest, I'm getting a bit nervous, because as soon as I get out of this forest, it's where I stopped in my first draft of the story written in pencil and started typing on the computer due to privacy issues. So from Goldenrod City on is basically a first draft. The journey through Ilex on paper was nothing like this one; it had some excitement, the death of Shimmertail, a fall-off-your-chair twist, another appearance by Blaze...but it hardly contributed to the plot at all. This is the part of the bagel that people always put to much cream cheese on (the center hole XP), and it's a bit of a struggle swallowing it all. Getting out of this forest and still understanding what's what is finishing that icky part of the bagel that no one really likes. You'll be halfway there, though, with only the yummeh doughy/cream cheese mix to finish off. If you guys have any questions about these last couple of chapters, wanna poke at a few plotholes, or hit me over the head with a shovel for extending this bagel analogy so much, please go right on ahead. SHWHOA, that's a long note. Makes up for the no-assed summary. Enjoy mi amigos!

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**Chapter Eighteen: Shadows Revealed**

"Oh."

Despite the direness of the situation, I uttered a reflexive, barkish laughter at the simplicity and calmness my twin was contributing to it. Oh? That's all she had to say? Didn't she have a dream with this thing as a host at one point? A dream where she had been gifted with the illusion and memory of a human body, and then cruelly told of haunting futures and ugly pasts? I guess not.

"Cel, rise to your feet. Be not ashamed of what lies on the outside." Although he was still badly shaken, as if all the spirits of the deceased had taken him in their jaws and tossed him about, Shadowveil's voice was once again calm and forceful.

The authority in it willed the defeated mutant to rise to his feet, kitetail wings dragging inches behind his heels. They were bloodied at the bottom, snagged by rocks and stray twigs as he walked. He sniffled childishly and rubbed the tears away with the broadside of his arm, and I noticed for the first time how young this legendary really was. Pity would have stirred in my heart had the hatred already bubbling in there not been so thick. I didn't realize it then, but I was acting just like those other legendary mutants: blindly looking for someone else to blame for my misfortunes. ...And yet I //_was_// blind; hate was such a suffocating curtain on the brain. Every single miserable thing that had happened to us was because of the young creature moping and crying in front of me. I felt obliged to add on to his sorrows.

"That's very easy for someone like Shadowveil to say, Cel." I commented steadily, scorn laced in every word I said. "He isn't the one constantly at eye level with you."

The celebi turned a tired face to me, eyes still silently flowing. His breaths were harsh, shaky, and full of exhausted frustration. "It wasn't all my fault. You started it."

"We started it? I started it? What are you talking about!? Look!" I almost shrieked, pummeling the air with my tiny fists. My right hand unfurled to show the faint outline of the pikachu tattoo, nearly hidden by the tuff of invading fur growing over it. "It's a stupid tattoo! That's all! You made such a big deal out of it and it screwed you up big time."

"Guys, be quiet!" Joe shouted meekly, limping behind me and cupping a large hand over my face. Instinctively, from the play fights of childhood, I stuck my tongue out and licked his palm. It promised instant relief.

"You don't get it, do you Joe?" I snarled, wiping away the gritty salt flavor of his skin against the roof of my mouth. "Did you already forget what my dream was about? He did it! That-that //_thing_// changed us into pokémon. He made you lose your brother." I struck the nerve with hot coals on both mutant and reptile.

"Jade."

Meeko's voice. Clueless, human-speaking Meeko. I looked up at him in response to my name, that look of fury still imprinting ridges above my eyes.

"Jade, from the looks and sounds of it, you aren't very happy."

"No shit." Even in my language, I think he got the message clear enough.

"Why? Because of that mutie pokémon?"

"In that dream." Joe scribbled after wiping a spot in the ground free of leaves.

"So...you're blaming what you did on it even after it's been punished already?"

Less certain, I nodded. The anger unwillingly ebbed away. I looked at him shyly for a few more guilty seconds, and then shook my head.

"We at terms enough now to find out what the hell's going on?"

I nodded again, eyes at my feet. God, I felt so small...

"So what was it you did again, Cel?" I mumbled through clenched teeth and clenched fists.

"It's kind of complicated." This seemed to lift some of the legendary's heavy mood now that he could finally spill his troubles. Like therapy or something. Boy, this was gonna be one long palaver. "I broke one of nature's laws. Since I can see into the future, it's important that I know them all so this sort of thing doesn't happen, but..." He looked at each of us innocently: the eons now settled on the ground, Jill and Joe translating to Meeko, and me, still hot faced beneath my fur. "We were really, really curious. Believe it or not, no one else has done what you three and the missing one did three weeks ago. Vow to stay loyal, I mean."

"Get to the point." I spat, then lowered my gaze before Shadowveil's harsh glance could catch hold of me.

"Well, they told me to look-

"//_You_// suggested it."

"Just listen for a second, okay?" Cel shouted at me, stamping one foot angrily. He inhaled, looked away from me, and continued. "I looked into the future, and... it said that you four would break that vow. See, if you just kept the promise, this wouldn't have happened. But since we looked beyond fate, and fate told us something that would negatively impact us... well, it weakened our souls."

"So you turned into a mutant because of it? Why?" Meeko said, his head still dipped over the messy, wavering letters.

"Um... I think he asked why I became this way. It has to do with our inner shadow."

//_Shadow._// I felt a degree colder.

"The inner shadow is usually held back by our souls, and since our souls were weakened... It got out." Cel explained, scowling at the blank faces he was receiving. "An inner shadow. Do you even know what that is?"

//_Shadow._//

"It's the being that lives inside our actual shadow. It's what makes your decisions when you allow anger to best you." He sighed impatiently. "Have you ever felt true regret for something bad you did?" Cel asked, exasperated.

We all nodded, save for Meeko and his scribes.

"Well, whatever you did bad is what the inner shadow told you to do. Strong emotions weaken the soul, so it is only natural for the inner to get some brief control. If you are pure evil or don't feel any regret, that means something really horrible happened to you in the past and the emotional pain destroyed your soul. That inner shadow takes over. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, kinda..." I said quietly, recalling all of the wicked things I'd done in the past.

"Since we're legendaries, one-of-a-kind pokémon birthed from the stars, our inner shadow has two parts: physical, and personality. You're looking at the physical. The ones who changed you into pokémon are fully controlled by their inner shadows."

//**_Shadow._**// The coldness trailed through my nostrils, and I stifled a chill twitch.

"Please. Stop talking." Shimmertail moaned, a shivery tremor in her voice. "I am feeling-

"-cold?" I squeaked, no longer resisting the trembles. She nodded. Jill had abandoned Joe in the translation, eyes watching us fearfully. We couldn't see it in the dark even so close to Joe's tail, but her own path of creamy fog was trailing from her lips.

"Hey... You doing okay?" Meeko leaned forward for a closer look at me, and I instantly quit with the shivers. It was bad enough that there was a voice in our heads. He didn't need to add on to my insanity list that coldness came with the package too.

"I wouldn't try resisting the coldness." Cel suggested, not at all fazed by our inner climate changes.

"What is it? Are they ill?" Shadowveil said, settling down beside Shimmertail as warmth.

"...you could say that." Joe hand went back to work at the legendary's words. "Each of these four has been changed into a pokémon...the forms they would have taken, had they been a natural member of this universe. Because of this, they now have two minds, two souls, two species... and two inner shadows, one human, the other pokémon. All in the same body. It causes chaos, the latter of the doubles. The owner of the inner voices must battle twice as hard to keep in control."

"So why do we get c-cold?" I stammered, melting away the ice with warm memories.

"Coldness is the attribute of an inner shadow, as heat is to your own. To have two inner shadows, always fighting... It's only a matter of time before you break under their weight." Cel said gravely. I expected some sort of smug grin from the mutant, but all he would give me was this awful, truly awful, sullen look of pity.

"Why are you staring at me like that? I've come this far without... letting it out, haven't I?" I asked, nervously tugging away at a patch of fur on my left arm.

"There's just so much piled against you... It would be a horrible thing to die here." Cel replied, the last of his statement quieter than the first. "You must remember that this isn't the only body that needs to be taken care of. Here, watch."

It took a simple hand gesture; lining his two hands together in a vertical position and pulling them away, fingers working furiously to unwravel some sort of invisible vine. From the space where the fingers parted from each other, an ugly, pale green orb bubbled into life, about the size of a soccer ball. The image inside was caught in a storm of lavender mist. He stroked the surface as if to wipe the inside clean, and the picture cleared with a whooshing rush.

Dead. That was the first thing that came into my mind when I saw these four limp...things, bodies maybe, lying on a white mattress, white sheet, white pillows, everything white. That is, everything except the tubes of wires and the dark, frightening equipment pumping behind them, never stopping... There was also a rhythmical beeping noise coming from a machine out of sight, something like 'de-teet, de-teet, de-teet'.

My hand found its way above and beside my left breast, or what should have been a breast and was now just a flat layer of skin, flesh, and bone. It was a gestured used countless time, five days a week every morning, as the school stated the Pledge of Allegiance in monotonous unison. Every time, through clothes and breastbone alike, I could feel the faint pulse of my heart: 'lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub'. I could feel it now even, further muffled by fur, blending in with the beeping of the machine inside the orb. My eyes widened, and the pulse of both heart and machine quickened, always together. My hand snapped away from the spot on my chest as if bitten.

The others made their way closer to the picture of our gaunt, lifeless bodies, while Cel observed us all in that... that pity-filled grin. "You're in what your kind calls a coma. You all are so deep under that the only thing keeping the men in blue and white from killing you are your parents. It's been two-thirds of a month since you slipped into this state, twenty days actually. And all this time they've been pressing your mother- and your father, too Joe- to end your misery to save their odd type of green currency. You could be humanly killed any day in that world, and I can only assume that in this one you'll die as well."

"No... n-no! Wake up, wake up!" Joe yelled at the orb, and the beeping got faster. He stamped his feet, pinched his arm fiercely, and opened and shut his eyes. Like a nightmare where you knew it was just that and nothing more, he tried to wake himself up. The lack of results frightened him more than any intimidation by his brother, and he swiped one of his bloodied claws through the orb in his hysteria. It was as if slicing through air, and yet the purple cloud shimmered at his fatal touch and faded away.

"It's best that you didn't watch anyway," The soothsayer murmured, scratching an itch on his right shoulder. "The only thing more addicting than watching the future is watching what's going on in the present."

"The fact that we could be killed any second helps some." Jill said bitterly, though fear was hacking away at what should have been irritation.

Abandoned by his translators, Meeko was lost at what he'd seen, though he had a tickle of what it meant. He rocked on his heels, still staring at the space where the purple glow used to hover. "So...what? Those four are you guys or something?"

"Yeah." Was all Joe wrote, so swiftly and messily that Meeko could hardly understand it.

"...but do you see what I mean?" Cel asked. "How unlikely it is that you'll get your bodies back?"

"Way to lighten the mood." My twin grumbled, lowering her knees to the ground in distaste. Joe and I did the same, followed by a wary Meeko. The daze of the healing was completely gone now, so the idea of resting on a bed of wet, sticky leaves was no longer appealing to him. I wasn't sure if the exhaustion I felt was on a physical or emotional scale.

"I am sorry to say that you will be leaving us for the night on routine, Cel. Shimmertail cannot sleep in your presence." The umbreon bowed his head. "If there is any way to cure this problem of yours, Shimmertail and I will search desperately for it once these three are safely escorted to the city."

"Your search will turn out to be fruitless, but I thank you, regardless." He smiled weakly at the two, a forgotten gesture that crowded his mouth and impaled his lips with those meddling teeth. The mutant licked the blood away and turned to look at Jill, Joe, and me. "Don't end up like your friend. His shadow's risen since capture, but he's not fully dead. It's a fate worse than death. If you should fall on this journey, make sure the fall kills you."

Cel looked at Shadowveil sadly, a frightened child sent back to his room by the stern voice of his father, even when both of them knew the source of his fear would return when the child fell asleep. When he turned his back on Shadowveil, I saw him trying to bite his lip, small tears dropping out of eyes narrowed in anger. I felt pity, like a thin wire, impaling hatred not yet destroyed. The wall I'd built against him started to crumble, fragment by fragment with every tear. This little kid talked old and wise-like but sounded young and lost.

//_Good luck, Jade..._//

The young mutant raised his fist and swiped it into the air with a force that might have broken my jaw. From his knuckles came another one of those humming portals, forever swirling. He gingerly jumped into it, wincing in fright at what the dark had in store for him. The purple mass swallowed him with noiseless grace, imploding moments after the legendary fell into it. Even with Cel gone, his haunting voice stabbed at my brain as we settled down to sleep, our backs turned away from Joe's firelight now that it wasn't wanted.

//_It would be a horrible thing to die here. To die here. Die._// The word that I thought was only found in everyone else's life pounded in my ears like blood.

//_The only thing keeping the men in blue and white from killing you are your parents..._//

//_It's only a matter of time before you break under their weight... to face a fate worse than death.// _There was an inner coldness that failed to save me from drifting off.

//**_There's only so much happiness in this mind to keep me satisfied for long. Only a matter of time, Jade... Only a matter of time before you _break**//

I was the child sent back to my room, forced to brave a torrent of nightmares that kept me trapped till dawn.


	20. Mugged

Previously on The Changlings... _Boring, hardly understandable chit chat part two. I'm sure you all remember it. Go dissect it if you're confused, or drop me an email for 'A Summary of "those two chapters" for Dummies'. Everyone's asleep, and Jade's having nigtmares. Oh noes:o _

Currently Injured: Jade, Jill and Joe suffering sores, burns (for Jade), and bruises. Status is all Speedily Recovering.

Author's Note: Oops. Chapter typo in my last chapter. - "I won't let them kill you!" is the last line of a somewhat dull chapter, and I thought it might be a bit confusing for you guys. Keep this in mind when you finish reading this chapter: Marc might as well be dead. Waterburn's an entirely different person, created after Marc's capture. I won't get any deeper than that, because this ain't boring, hardly understandable chit chat part three. What I'm saying is, getting captured and dying seems to be the same thing for the kids. Remember that, k? XP

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**Chapter Twenty: Mugged**

Most of the nightmares were senseless and near impossible to explain; scary simply because my mind told me to be frightened. Images bloomed in my head and stretched on for eternity, as if they symbolized all of existance, with me as a near invisible dot next to them, overwhelmed by the sheer size. This sense of insane smallness stirred that unknown, nightmare terror I usually felt as I dreamed while sleep walking or shivering with sickness in bed. It was one of the worst of all fears, something hard to grasp to you yourself even as you try to stutter out to a worried parent what sent you moaning out of a deep sleep in the first place. My theory is that I sometimes dreamt of being insane. As always in those dreams of no sense, I had this starving need to be comforted by my mother. She was the one thing I could still remember, the one sane thought that always anchored me back down into a peaceful slumber.

It was the last nightmare I had before morning that my evil shadow worked long and hard to create, mainly because every single detail in it was based on memory. It was the only thing I could qualify as a dream that night...

_"When are you coming back?" I ask someone softly. I am in an airport, the majority of people dragging those ugly backpacks that had wheels around. I hated those. They have cheap straps._

_"It's hard to say, Jade. Work is like that." A tall young woman, with charcoal eyes and freakishly straight black hair. I haven't seen that face in a long time. I have many green orbs to give her. She is someone I love and miss bitterly at the same time._

_"Well, why Europe? I mean, I've heard of people moving around the state to follow their work around, but... It's another continent, Krissy!" Jill. Her tears and choked up voice hurt my throat and blur my eyes. _

_The intercom warns Krissy to leave. I want to grind it under my heel until it screams. She leans down and kisses us both on the forehead, though it doesn't take much. Her age difference is great by about seven years, but we all live cursed as a short family. "I love you guys. Try to survive Mom on my own while I'm gone, okay?"_

_We laugh and nod, even if it's cluttered by sobs. As she gets farther away, pieces of the scenery fade off in purple clumps. Only she is left, her back to us, leaving forever, suitcase in hand. I know now that this part is a dream, not a flashback, and once again fiction. It's no longer real. That doesn't stop me from screaming and crying out for my older sister when a shadowy clawed hand wraps its evil fingers around her neck, snaps it, and drags her through a passageway to the right, taking her away from me for life._

"KRISSY! NONONOOO!" I screamed shrilly, hurling myself forward, visciously fighting off an enemy I couldn't see. ...but I knew it was that thing that killed my sister, and I was going to tear it apart. My eyes were slick with oily tears not yet shed.

"Jade, wake up! Oh my god, stop it!" Jill's voice, equally high in volume, was like a mental slap in the face. I stopped mid bite and opened my mouth, letting out another quick sob. Why was I crying? It was about something important...

"Huh?" I looked down at myself, staring in wonder at the ragged lines of cuts and bites visible on my arms. The force was strong enough to rip the fur from their roots and tear the skin where the burns were. It was a chilling sight.

"You were attacking yourself," Shadowveil said calmly from the same spot he had settled in last night. "And you wondered the camp at night asking for your mother. Dreams took hold of you, did they not?"

"Y-yeah... Sleeping walking..."

"Who is Krissy?" Shimmertail asked me, yawning sleepily as if this self mutilation was nothing special.

"Our older sister. She went missing on our earth a while ago." Jill said sadly, looking down at the leaves. "Jade, what the hell did you dream about to make you do that?"

"...something killed her. A hand. It broke her neck, and I wanted to kill it." I looked at the two who hadn't yet given there comments, Cracklebutt and Linguistically Stupid. Joe was still shaken into silence, and Meeko obviously had no idea what was going on since we were fed up with writing things out for him. Neither had anything to say, which was just fine with me. I wanted to forget about it.

"What time is-? ...nevermind." I tried looking beyond the suffocating trees, trying to trace shreds of friendly sunlight. It was considerably darker when we fell asleep last night, and the shadows no longer danced like apperations. I guessed it was morning. "Can we go now?"

Shadowveil grinned, though it was hollow and meaningless. "Remember that you have a human travelling with you now. They are not adapted to long journeys like us."

"He'd better start adapting then. I think you understand why I want to leave now even more than before." I remarked, observing both pathways. Which way did we come from again..?

"Yes, the hospital." Shimmertail shuddered, grateful that she didn't know the fate of her own human body. "Haste causes problems, though Jade. What of that grass pouch that was around your neck last night? It's found itself on the ground beside your human. If I had not noticed it, you would have left it behind."

Hearing this, Joe reached down and picked up the charred pouch. The string used as an arm had been burned too deeply in my fire shower for it to hold without snapping while I was sleepwalking. He took out the badge, turning it over in his claws, admiring the silver gleam even in this darkness.

"Here." The charmander gave it to Meeko, who first checked to see if his own Zephyr badge was still inside his coat before pinning it into the shirt.

"Alright, I get it. Haste makes waste and all that crap. Can we go now?" I pressed, starting down the path I guessed was right. Shimmertail sighed and did something very human; she rolled her eyes and me and sighed.

The rest of the way was uneventful, aside from the five minutes it took tracking down Jill when she fell too far behind. It was obvious the forest was thinning, because the outlines of trees were now pillars of black ink blotted against a light azure background. We could walk side by side without feeling the twisted caress of the trees, a major improvement from the untended entrance in Azalea.

The shy sun failed to burn our light-starving eyes as time went on, choosing to reappear like the smooth sting of an injection. Its fingertips wormed through the tree tops, eager to please with its radiance, and yet lacking any true heat to lessen the cold.

Rest stops were frequent but necessary; should we skip any, and Shimmertail would succum to exhaustion and collapse without warning. She was the weak link in this traveling chain, the main reason why we reached the exit of the forest by midday instead of midmorning. We stood on the outskirts of what remained of Ilex forest now, still bathed in the half light of the shade. Shadowveil and Shimmertail retreated from the exposed edge, ears bent nervously against their backs.

"This is where our paths fork." Shadowveil stated, backing up further still. "We shall remain at this side of the forest to aid lost humans, but I am afraid the help offered to you ends here. I am not so much worried about you as I am for Meeko. He is just a human boy, remember. Prone to countless injuries that his spoiled body cannot heal."

"Mm..."

"Jade."

"I said yeah!"

"You truly _are_ a human, child." Shadowveil smiled, his body fading out of sight.

"Goodbye my friends. I hope the search for your bodies is luckier than mine." The other eon said regretfully. Her lavander fur melted in with the wholeness of the forest.

I can't say I regretted their leave, but I wasn't exactly happy either. Shadowveil's personality was what his name pertrayed him as: a being veiled in shadow, hidden deep within a frightening, demonic body. He had far too much power over us for me to be comfortable around him, in both physical strength and mental knowledge of the universes. Shimmertail had this confused aura of two people: her original personality as a human and the fake one adopted by her partner. She was upsetting to be around, and yet I found myself missing her already. Was it because she'd taken a dip in my head? I was doubtful.

"...are we going through now?" Meeko prodded, arms crossed at the building in front of him. Most of it had grime and age coating the wood, but he was sure it would be clean on the other side. With people. He actually missed making smart remarks to everything they said. If he stayed here any longer with these animals, he'd start forgetting how to speak human.

We walked over to the door, hovering by Meeko's feet as he opened it. This gave us that loyal, domesticated look we were aiming for, and would shun away any collectors of rare finds like us. On one side of the shelter, a guard sat dozing behind his desk. He stirred when we came in, sleepily looking the filthy newcomer over to make sure he'd come through the forest in one piece. A couple of travellers stood off to the other side, anxiously noting his bedraggled appearence and the injuries of his pokémon.

"No Hoothoot rental." The guard mused, chin balanced on on the palm of his hand. "Ya know kid, you could have avoided spending the night in those woods with one of them. It would have been cheaper than using up all of your supplies getting here yourself."

"Do I _look_ like the type of kid who could give a shit right now?"

"If you give your mouth and hair a good wash, you just might pull it off." One of the travellers commented mildly.

Face burning, Meeko pulled his hat down lower to hide the greasy black hair in front, but show off the tangles of it in the back. He reminded himself to save up for a haircut. And new clothes. And other things the boy couldn't afford now that he was paying for double the mouths he usually had to feed.

"Come on, guys." He strained, upset that his smart mouth had been dominated by another. We followed him out through the other entrance into the city, pretending to behave as our species did and act ignorant to this moment of Meeko making a complete ass of himself.

Neither Joe, Jill, nor I had much experience with cities as humans, only used to the calmness of a somewhat rural lifestyle on a state hugging the ocean. We could trust the air not to hold a heavy scent of polution, or for running across a busy street to be a risk on your life. If ever in contact with one of these cities, it would be from the protection of a car or a group of classmates. So naturally, one look at this city with a deceiving name and our chins unhinged. Meeko continued on, stopping a few paces in front of us once he realized he wasn't being followed.

"Coming or what?" He asked, looking down for a spot of dirt that wasn't there. "Are you guys scared of a little city?"

"'Little'? We have to get through this on foot!" I exclaimed, making my index and middle finger run aimlessly on the air. Why wasn't he as stressed about this?

He shrugged and looked at his surroundings, confident. "Don't worry about all that. I used to come here every other weekend to visit Dad. Goldenrod's really not that big when you know where you're going."

Joe eyed the city in obvious doubt. Sky scrapers had hardly a sky to scrape at all; they should have been called smog scrapers. Residents had their sights to a ground of gum and trash, while nervous vistors debated their safety at crosswalks. The air was alive with the smells and sounds of any typical city. A railroad sat in the center of it all, slowing down a traffic that would never really go away.

"I'm serious, Joe. This place was built so trainers could come and go quickly. You'd just have to walk straight from the main road if you want out." He squinted his eyes, trying to find his proof past the distracting haze of city life. "Anyway, we're not staying long."

As we walked down the road's sidewalk, I realized the truth in Meeko's words. Only the important things, such as hospitals, an enormous department store, and the gym borderlined the main road leading out. Everything else that the locals used stood on the outer ring of the city. It made my image of this bustling urban jungle seem a bit brighter. Our guide led us inside the pokémon center.

The building was massive. It was large enough to be considered a hotel, a hotel with walls that moaned thinly and jingled with the notes of rattling doctor's equipment. It harbored both restful visitors and restless patients, and carried that pasty smell of sickness large human hopitals developed over time. The interior was designed like any hopsital I'd seen in my world, nothing like the simplicity of our previous visits in the other towns.

Meeko headed down a hallway, head swiveling from sign to sign like the first day of high school he would never have. Before long he found his way to a group of trainers, each divided into lines. They stood before mechanical pods of various sizes, the height and weight limit of each pod posted in bold red lettering on the sides. He walked over to the line where pokéballs could be deposited, and the three of us went to the line next to him. To reassure us, he pointed to the front of our line.

"They're used to clean up wounds, get rid of soreness, stuff like that. I think it has to do with pokémon DNA reaction, so... be careful. Just to be safe." He explained, conscious of the stares people in earshot were offering.

Our line's were roughly the same length, but Meeko's moved quicker. The petit pokémon needed coaxing from their humans to willingly step inside the cramped machines, and less tame pokémon nipped at a neighbor's face. I observed the other one's behaviors, anxious. The more tame rarely said anything. Those that did spoke in accented tongues while others, birds mostly, had no trace of one in their speech. It was the fragmented way they all talked that had me troubled, the vacant, gray-eyed expressions on their face which I hadn't noticed before the trip through Ilex. Each responded to their trainers with a submissive obediance, ignoring the taunts of the recently captured. They were like exotic pets, declawed only when it was convineint for their trainers.

When it was finally our turn to heal ourselves, I faltered on front of the white belly of the pod, my trust flickering. The hand burns, as if sensing my doubt, ruefully prickled and throbbed under the tiles. Alright, alright. Still... what exactly happened in these things? Like Meeko hinted, maybe some tiny human part of me had reached beyond the threshold of the soul and into the flesh. "Um..."

Jill leaned down and headbutted me into the pod. With a yelp, I got to my feet and turned to flee, but the process was already starting, detecting my weight. A door that had perched the walls inside the pod slid shut. A bright, white light filtered down from bulbs at the top. Outside, Joe and Jill stood waiting.

"Hey Joe, come here. check this out." She said, her eyes scrolling over the warning tag below the red lettered requirements. "'The light that aids in the healing process is a type of radiation that reactes to pokémon DNA. Humans are strongly urged not to go into these pods.' Haha, good luck, Jade."

Hearing this, I pounded on the mechanical slide doors and pleaded for them to get me out. The light was numbing every part of my body that was hurt, and I could _feel_ the rest of the rays passing effortlessly through my body down into the floor. I couldn't get that terrifying term out of my head: radiation. To my brain it was a bad word.It mutated people, gave them extra body parts or melted the skin from their bones. My fear of something going wrong pretty much ruined the experience for me. When the light died away and the door opened, I scrambled out on all fours and stuttered angrily at them both, blind to this rush of restored energy sponging into my flesh.

"Could've killed-! Figures I'm the guinea pig..! Why'd you-"

"You're alive though, right? And feeling better?" Jill interrupted, stunning me into silence. Now that she mentioned it... those burns didn't really hurt anymore. My period of quiet proved her point.

After they both healed themselves we all walked back to the hallway we'd come from, where Meeko stood waiting next to some occupied chairs. He led us back to the main lobby, shifting through his bag as we walked out of the hospital.

"I've got enough potions, the guys are healed... I think I'm going to the gym now. What do you three think? Am I ready?" He asked, stepping out of the way for another trainer.

Simultaneously, we all shrugged, indifferent about it.

"Well, you're all no help."

This lack of support didn't deter the boy. He was eager to leave this city, not wanting to have to endanger us and stay longer if he should run into his father. Meeko had heard rumors about the leader in his trips to Goldenrod- that she was your average rich teenage girl who bought her way into the gym business, and adored the average things average girls adored. Pink was probably her favorite color. Although this meant an easy win for him, he wasn't too happy that for the next half hour or so he would be facing a Preppy princess whose daddy owned millions of dollars.

Walking down the sidewalk of the main road, I counted the the wads of gum that bubbled past me, bored with this energy already. So intent was I with avoiding a sticky disaster, I failed to notice the shady looking teenager approaching us from behind. He waited for Meeko to walk by an alleyway, and then made his strike. Hands swift and lean with practice, he reached out for Meeko's belt, grabbing one of his pokéballs and running off into the alley. At first, Meeko just stood there stupidly, patting the empty spot on his belt. Then, a look of dismal horror seizing his face, he ran off after the kid. "That was Damion!" He screamed furiously, even though his only company were tagging at his heels.

Lost in the moment, I once again screwed up as the warner of danger. We were about to run by a dumpster, eyes following the faint shape of the thief, when another teenager jumped out in front of us, smashing his fist against Meeko's eye. He fell backwards, crying out, stumbling over us and stepping on Joe's tail as he fell.

"Give him back!" Meeko yelled at once, struggling to sit up.

The attacker dropped three of his own pokéballs to the ground, and the captives inside broke out with a mechanical whine. Each of them, a pidgeyotto, raticate, and beedrill, stood at a distance from us, awaiting orders. He leaned down over Meeko, gripping his shirt collar and pulling the light weight boy up into the air. Meeko tried to pry his fingers away in vain, feet kicking out for purchase. Angrily, the teenager slammed Meeko against the alley wall, stealing away any will to resist he'd had before this threat of more than just the pain of an eye that was swelling shut. We stood helpless, not daring to anger the stronger, evolved animals that stood guard over the mugging. The thief returned to his partner with a casual air, tossing and catching Damion's pokéball to fufill an obsessive compulsive need he wasn't aware of.

"Got any cash?" The thief sneered, his smile sly and mischievous."No? Guess we're keeping him then."

"No! Give him back you filthy..." The horror at the thief's words completely drained his insult dictionary. He was at a loss for words, desperately tugging away at these hands that rendered him powerless. Strength found its way into Meeko's legs, likewise boldness to his head. A determined scowl on his face, he pulled back his foot until the tip of his worn down shoes pressed into the wall, then whipped it forward. His foot nestled hideously hard into the attacker's groin; the teenager let out a pained wheeze, releasing him and curling up in a groaning heap on the ground. Meeko fell to his feet, but in that short time of his fall the thief had acted. He swung his fist against Meeko's face, partially blocked by an arm held up in a reflexive recoil. Sensing the action around them, the three pokémon charged at us, and we scattered in different directions.

Meeko felt the thief's hand trailing over his chest, groping for something. At this the boy stopped dead, bewildered at what the teenager was doing. The fingers passed over the four badges pinned to the inside of his black shirt, pushing the cold metal against his skin.

"Badges, huh? Four, it feels like." He sniggered, shifting his hands up over Meeko's neck. The other teen still lay writhing on the ground, and his pokémon walked back to him loyally, forgetting us. "Get em out for me kid. I'm not gonna be putting my hand down some boy's shirt like I'm lookin' for tits to squeeze."

_Not the badges!_ Meeko thought, horrified. Even as he did as he was told, he felt the small weights on his belt loosen. His fingers fumbled and froze with the unpinning of the last of them, our Zephyr badge. They were taking the rest of his pokéballs. All of his pokémon. Very slowly, he brought out the four badges, curled up tight in his palm. His other free hand formed into a fist as well. They could take his money, his badges, even the J trio positively usless next to them all, but to take his pokémon away... his family... to steal Damion before he even had a chance to say sorry for making him battle that croconaw...

Meeko used his stronger hand, his right, to hit the thief over his left temple. The teenager's head leaned to the side, where Meeko's left fist made contact with the other pressure point not yet punished. It was a move that happened in the blink of an eye. Pain skittered along his hand where the sharp ends of the pins sunk their single teeth inward. The attacker, whose section below the stomach throbbed a quivery heat, forced himself to his feet and charged. As did his pokémon, who each chose their own victim to chase. A distant cousin of mine perhaps, the raticate snapped its overgrown fangs inches from my tail. Come on! Leave the baby alone, dammit!

The attacker snatched both of Meeko's wrists, bending them backwards until Meeko was forced to his knees, straining to hold back the thin moan escaping through his gritted teeth. His fingers parted, and the four badges slid to the ground with a musical clatter. The attacker's swooning partner bent down to pick them up, along with the pokéballs he'd dropped after Meeko's cheap shot on his head. A small gasp from the boy. _They're getting away with this!_

The captor of his wrists threw them to the side, left to fall like dead weights to the ground. He returned the pidgeyotto attacking Joe, his eyes glinting greedily at this rare find. Seeing this, the thief walked over and pulled a struggling Joe close to him, one arm pushing up to force his mouth shut, the other crushing his claws against his chest. Joe wrenched his mouth free, jaws snapping away at empty air.

"Let go of me! Help!" Joe managed to shout before the arm pushed his lips together. Eyes rolling in terror, he tried to get at arm loose, a leg even, to claw with.

Meeko could only watch this specticle, the openings of another crippling sneak attack closed off. He was on his knees at the mercy of a bad tempered teenager who was still recovering from the unpleasant kick. One move and he was sure that the same would be done to him.

"Got a pokéball for this one?" The thief grunted, biting his lower lip against the challenge of restraining the charmander.

"Lost it." Meeko forced out, his voice lost in the reality of this all.

"Guess we'll have to use one of your other one's later then." He replied, smiling. Having heard this, the fury of Joe's fight doubled, and still it wasn't enough to break free. Images of gray eyed Shimmertail, dead Marc, birthed Waterburn flashed about his head in a sickening swirl. His terrified screams were gratefully muffled.

"Joe!" Jill and I cried at the same time, our chorus one of unified sorrow that had nothing to do with our twin race. We tried fighting back against our foes, anything to reach them before... before we lost another one. They seemed to know the situation, and held us at bay with a bitter determination. In the fear, stress, the small amount of time given to us to get attacks in on the humans, that internal technique I had instictively known how to exploit slipped from my mind. I tried summoning the sparks, found none, and my hopes darkened, as equally lightless as these betraying cheeks of mine. The teens started to make their escape, a squirming Joe in one's arms, Meeko's badges and pokéballs in the others. No, no, NO!!

"We'll get you back before they catch you, Joe!" I screamed to him, evading another bite from the raticate. They continued attacking until Meeko found the will to get to his feet, and even then they kept us from pursuing them for as long as possible. By the time Meeko shooed the beedrill and raticate back to their masters, the said couple had disappeared, and Joe with them. I knew the trio were long since out of earshot, but I had the overwhelming need to clarify my own thoughts, my own promises, which seemed to be melting around me in the harsh reality -and yet the same time unreality- of it all. The emotional agony in my voice bounced eerily along the enclosed walls of the alley.

"I won't let them kill you!


	21. Tangled Strings

Previously on The Changlings... _After their long palaver with Shadowveil and Shimmertail, the group left Ilex and entered the not-so-wonderous Goldenrod City. Meeko healed his pokémon, and the trio healed themselves without much problems. They were on their way to the local gym, when two teenagers mugged Meeko, and took off with Joe. Yeah, nice shortnchoppy summary for ye. :D _

Currently Injured: Meeko, suffering a punch to the eye. Status is Mild Discomfort.

Author's Note: Hm. This chapter took a long time to type up. Towards the end you'll be thinking 'wow, already?', but I'm eager to be off and on with the story. I just wanna get to Ecruteak already! DX kicks group You're all too slow...

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One: Tangled Strings **

"We have to follow them!"

"Come on, Meeko, hurry up _please_!"

He ignored our talk, confused eyes (one swelled beyond the point of allowing him normal vision) staring down at the pair pulling away at his pant leg. Less than a day ago he'd been in the same position against Adrian and, though he didn't show the full emotions of it, the kid was scared shitless of them once he got the two angry. Although they didn't do anything life scarring, they'd stripped him of everything... His belt felt sickeningly light against his pants, and the absence of the badges chilly touch made his throat clench.

"We're going to the police." He said lowly, fingers stroking away at the empty belt. The balls' sudden disappearance felt like a missing finger to him; passing his trembling hand over it triggered phantom bolts of pain in his gut.

"No! We don't have time!" Jill nearly howled in her hysteria. She must have been feeling the same fluttery panic slowly rising in my chest. If things went Meeko's way, it was going to reach our throats, and the screaming would undoubtedly start. Our way or the high way, buddy.

"Let me go!" He snarled, pulling his leg away. "I...can't get them by myself. My pokémon, I mean. If we go report this, then they'll catch the crooks and get everything back. Joe too."

Were those tears that fell from my cheeks? Meeko grimaced at the sight of such human emotion in an animal body. "Meeko, please..! We need your help. If Joe gets captured... Don't say you don't understand me!" I screamed the last of this when he opened his mouth, wiping away the clueless expression on his face. I spoke again, slow and quiet.

"We. Love. Him." I pointed at myself and Jill, made a heart over my chest, and pointed down the alley towards his disappearance. Hesitating at the indignity, I got to my knees and laced my hands together like a beggar asking for some spare change. My eyes were narrowed in anger, but the tears fell in sorrow. "_Please_,"

Meeko looked away when he saw my pathetic gesture, fists clenched. "...if we go to the police, everything gets recovered. If we go alone, we only get Joe. Don't you two get it? I worked my ass off to get what they took!"

"_You_ don't get it! You don't understand!" Jill screamed, vines sprouting from the sides of her neck. They scribbled over the concrete ground, searching for soft ground to write on in a subconscious way one would search for words to say by mouth. Even though it couldn't be explained through hand gestures, she continued her rant. "Didn't you see what it did to Marc? If they get Joe in that thing, he'll be...be..."

"Forget it, Jill. He doesn't want to come." I said evenly, getting to my feet. "We'll just go without him."

"But ... we need him."

"Right, right, I totally forgot it's important that we bring along a noisy, weak muscled human who sits there and gawks during a crisis. My bad, sorry." Looking up at Meeko with a bitter sideways glance, I bent my ears back and snarled as I spoke. "Go to your police, Meeko. If they can catch the crooks and get back your badges and pokémon, don't expect us to welcome you back into our group. You're on your own from here." Then, to briefly summarize my mini-speech, I flipped him off. Having only four fingers sort of diminished the look of it, but it had the desired effect.

"Well, fuck you too, Jade! Go get him yourself!" Meeko shouted, pivoting angrily on one heel until his back was facing us. He stood there for a few moments, teeth bared at the alleyway exit. He waited for his anger to drop a notch or two, and then turned back to us. We were already out of sight.

oo00oo

The teenager's shirt smelled of body odor and mold. Joe could feel his heart pumping. Sores were starting to form on Joe's neck where the intruding arm was forcing it up to the sky. His feet and hands hummed the drowsy song of a body part dozing, and decided that even if they let him go he would stumble on his senseless, bloodless limbs before he even took a single step.

The thief's grip on him was patchy yet strong. If Joe moved his back legs or tried lighting some clothing on fire by tail, the grip would double in strength, strangling him and forcing his fingers to fold backwards towards the wrist. His eyes were the only things granted permission to move, swirling in their mad circles up at the walls of the alley and the gray sky beyond them.

_I don't wanna get caught! Not like Marc! _He tried to scream, tears falling in small pebbles from his eyes. _Don't catch me! Please, please, don't!_

Don't what? That was the scary part. Getting captured made no promises of suffer or release for the victim. However, Cel's words of warning claimed that "it's a face worse than death". He wondered if he had the courage to slit his own throat if circumstances turned out worse than they already were.

_Jade! Jill! ...Let me go! _Joe gave another desperate lurch, this one his all, his finale. If he didn't make it out of this grip he would depend on the twins to help him. And if they didn't come...

The struggle was unexpected, because the last one was several minutes ago and the thief had grown too relaxed. Claws of both feet and hands pushed against the human's clothes, the tips grazing bare skin. His snout wrenched free, gulping in the not-so-fresher air of the city. A flame carved its way up through his throat, and swirled around desperately in Joe's mouth. His lips parted, the fire spiraling off as a great pillar in an unknown direction. The attacker screamed somewhere beside captive and captor, dropping a few items as the flame clipped him.

Just as Joe tensed to kick away and out of the thief's grasp, the arm snaked its way back against his throat. He sputtered, choking on his breath, arms and legs going slack. Failed. They still had him.

There was a brief pause to catch their breath and secure the prize in the thief's arm, and then they were back up and running again.

Had the thief been standing still, he would have felt the temperature difference bleeding through his vest and thin shirt where the stolen charmander breathed. Joe's breath was now icy cold, a chilling displeasure in his mouth that hacked away at his teeth. In addition to his trembles of fear were the trembles of coldness. It was a kind of inner coldness one would feel when first stepping into their car on a cold day. He craved for hot water, hell, boiling water to melt this frozen feeling in his blood.

That was when he heard the voice. The cold, terrifically evil sound of his own thoughts.

_**"My, aren't we in quite a fix?" **_

_Who are you? Am I thinking this?_ Joe wondered, teeth chattering.

_**"Just think of me as a helper, Joe. I can see that you're up to your eyes in shit right now, and I'm here to give you a chance to breathe." **_

_I don't trust you._

**_"Without my help you'll end up like your brother."_** There was undeniable annoyance in the voice's tone.

_I don't care! You sound horrible, and you're making me feel sick. Besides, Jill, Jade, and Meeko are helping me. I don't need you._

_**"Yes, you do." **_

Joe began to doubt his own beliefs merely because of how...confident, how sure this voice that wasn't his sounded. There was no defensive note in the statement. It was like it was saying the grass was green and the sky was blue. You didn't need proof; it was common knowledge.

_But... Jade and Jill..._

_**"They aren't here right now, ready to help you like I am. I'm your only chance. Would you rather be captured?" **_

This was the point where Joe, a young mind easy to deceive, suddenly formed an image in his head. He stood with one foot in each decision: faith in friends, or faith in the sure-of-itself voice? Friend faith had half a body of a human, while the other half his pokémon form. His mind wavered on the advice of the voice, his human foot lifting up a few inches from the ground. It nearly reached over to the other side, when he visualized the eyes of the pokémon side. It was a beautiful gray, flaming with a feral violence and yet still dead at the same time. He knew those eyes. Marc's eyes. He practically leapt over the metaphoric borders onto the side of logic and reason. Human.

_My friends will do the helping Voice. Go away._

**_"But how can you be so sure?"_** The voice growled, knowing its battle was lost.

The thief uttered a cracked shriek, throwing his arms up and dropping Joe to the ground. Behind him a light show of white sparks gnawed through his vest. He swooned and fell to the ground, revealing the twins standing behind him.

_Just see for yourself_.

oo00oo

Joe ran at us full speed with this bizarre sort of limp caused by his feet falling asleep or something. He scrambled over the thief's still body. He howled some sort of phrase of gratitude, the strings of words cut loose by the sheer relief he must have been feeling. One orange arm curled around Jill's neck, the other bending down to scoop me up in a clumsy heap. I accepted this undignified embrace with no complaint, just as thrilled to see him unharmed as he was to see his rescuers.

The stolen pokéballs and badges clattered to the ground. We all turned our heads at the sound, once again a trio of a shared mind. The other teen was still standing, his ass singed but otherwise still in good health enough to send out his pokémon. His fingers danced over the clips of his belt, an expert at it after long practice.

The three balls tumbled through the city air and broke apart inches from the ground. Our old friends, evolved and powerful, formed a tight circle around us. The raticate and pidgeyotto stood as distractions, talon and fang alike ready to serve the same purpose. The remaining wasp jabbed away, massive stinger probing.

I doubted Joe even gave himself a warning before his attack. He launched himself at the beedrill, heedless of the stinger and the fact that the opponent was larger than he was. From his mouth first came a snarl, and then gales of flame. Jill and I watched wondrously, having only seen this attack once before. I'd thought it pretty that time, but only because the fatal attack never met its mark.

The flame thrower ate away at the lower section of the beedrill's body, charring abdomen and drinking the blood that escaped. Joe's claws took care of what the fire failed to harm. Both fell down, conquered and conqueror, one landing on his feet, the other in a wriggling mass of skinny limbs that danced in the agony of its wounds. It dealt with its pain in silent mourning, unharmed antennae curling around atop the creature's head like a mini sattelight dish.

The other two acted at once, charging at Joe in a tangled mess of feathers and tawny fur. I thought that quite fortunate for us, since Joe hadn't been given time to think of what he'd done to the beedrill. He wouldn't be swiping away at their tender spots-and smiling as he did it-if granted that time.

Unless Joe wanted to feel the bite of my attack, I was left without anything to do. Jill tried to pitch in by coiling her vines around them, but the meddling did more harm than good on the eleven-year-old's part.

We'd never given Joe much credit in the fighting department. If it came right down a battle of fang and claw, the brothers would be evenly matched. Timid Joe was just... a wussy. Too scared, too weak, or even too modest to actually give his all and kick some serious ass.

Right now that wasn't an issue. He had no choice but to fight back. Joe clawed away at them, face turned away in a grimace of a smile, stepping backwards until the alleyway seemed to push him forward as if saying _Oh, no you don'_t. He slid down, arms draped over himself. It was his eyes he feared for the most. His lids alone wouldn't stop a talon or well aimed claw from cleaving them straight out of their sockets. No eyes, no sight, no chance of survival. These two with their unfair attacks were crushing his fingers as he lay dangling from the sheer cliff of instinct. The dark plumes rising from the canyon below grazed his feet. He could feel its hot rush as the blood in his veins rose up. This was how he felt when he'd charged the beedrill.

The boy could feel the welcoming heat twisting around in his belly with the tightness of an impossibly small cyclone. He opened his mouth to release the flame as it surged up his throat, arms lowering for the predestined attack. The raticate, not even meaning to perform such an odd method of counter attack, lunged at Joe's chest.

There was no true way to describe it, he told us much later on. The raticate hit him in such a spot, in such a skillfully lucky way that should have knocked the breath out of him. Instead, it stopped the upward movement fire in his throat all the way down to whatever secret place generated his flame. It was like being frozen in time while you were puking, except the puke burned after prolonged exposure. The fire-no longer his best friend, but the bitterest of rival-was still alive within him even as it starved to death, hungry for air. I saw the way Joe's eyes widened at some unimaginable burn from inside when the flame failed to escape. Only smoke and papery breath fell from his lips.

"J-Joe?" Jill asked. None of us were really sure what had happened, human or pokémon. The charmander brought both hands to his throat, trying to swallow spit like a fish tries to swallow life when plucked out of water. The fire had dissolved several seconds ago actually, almost instantly after the burn was inflicted in where ever. Why did it hurt so much? Picture a blistering burn you maybe have once gotten on your hand. Now picture it happening to the lining of your esophagus.

The human was the first one to recover. While we stood watching Joe, he bent down among the mess of pokéballs and badges, and picked the balls up and guessed their vacancy by weight. Once finding a light one, he called back his pokémon, the damage now enough for the catch to be successful. Jill and I turned to the attacker just as he reared his arm back for the hypnotic throw. I was so unprepared for the sight, so much that I didn't even have time for fear to pounce. Only one word leapt into speech (both by me and my twin), the way it would if you saw an oncoming car barreling towards you an instant before impact.

"NO!!"

Every detail about the kid ballooned out in front of me. His jaw slackening for a smile. Fingers unfurling to add spin to the ball. Eyes narrowing for a better shot. The screeching blur of brown streaking past his face. The assaulter's talons raked the teen's cheek, painting red whiskers where a beard was shyly making itself known. He pulled his hands up to his face, crying out in surprise. The ball fell to the ground and rolled off next to the smoking beedrill. Joe's rescuer, a spearow of all creatures and comically smaller than the one's we'd met before, wheeled around and made for another dive. It found purchase atop his head, gripping clumps of hair in its claws and tearing it off as it shot by. The cries intensified in volume. He valued his hands far too much to chance grabbing one of his own pokémon to fend the pest off.

"He tried stealing you, Rowan! Use your beak and cut off those thieving fingers!"

I heard Jill gasp at the sound of Meeko's battle shouts. All three of us, even Joe still puffing his dog pant rhythm, turned our heads to make sure this was no cruel illusion. There the little bastard stood, not at all gawking in a crisis. He cracked his whip of demands at his fighter, fingers relishing that perfect feeling of the pokéball finally nestled in hand.

The gray eyed spearow swooped above the attacker's arm, jabbing away at the fingers. Its beak got shinier with each swipe it managed to get in. The teenager pulled down one hand to inspect the damage. They shivered in their cooled blood bath, some curling against his palm, others still functioning in hopeless defiance. He screamed in horror more than pain. That would come later on when he squatted down and looked back to make sure they weren't following him.

Rowan and Meeko seemed to enjoy eating away at what little time we had before his friend woke up. I pulled at his pant leg and pointed to the pile of balls and badges, reminding him what he really came for.

"Alright girl, stop. Give him... a five-second head start." Meeko called to the spearow, who flew over to his shoulder at the third word. She was unable to process the rest of his demand with the simple mind of a captured bird, and so let the mutilated teenager return his beedrill and run off without any additional harm.

"That was fun. Humans are fun to hurt." The spearow tittered, but said nothing else. She was too busy licking the blood clean from the roof of her mouth. I'm sure Meeko wouldn't have taken that statement as light as he did now if he knew the meaning of her satisfied coos.

Frowning, Meeko walked over to the gasping charmander. What was wrong with him? He didn't see any blood coming out of the place where he was rubbing.

"Water." Joe rasped, pretending to drink from an imaginary cup. Meeko looked around the alleyway as if the said drink was standing at his feet. Rowan, displeased by the movement, fluttered from her perch on his shoulder with a clack of her beak.

In his vain search for the cup, Meeko spotted the lonely pile that he'd wanted so desperately to have again. He momentarily abandoned Joe to gather them to their rightful spots in his shirt and belt clips. Jill and I advanced closer to our hurt friend, confused.

"Joe, um... What's the matter? Why's your neck hurt?" I asked timidly, not bothering to think that talking just might irritate the twinge in his throat.

"Burned."

"Outsi-?"

"Get me some damn water." Piecing together so many words at once flared the embers of pain. He wouldn't say anymore.

Meeko released Damion for the first time since the totodile was healed. He wrinkled his snout at the tang of the city, eyes squinted shut to adjust to the light. His hand went down to the area over his heart, expecting to feel that ugly wound still there. The claws traced over a small ridge in the chest plates where it once was, but that was all that ever hinted he'd been slashed by a scyther and shortly after slashed again by a croconaw. Where were they all? When did they get to a city? He gave each of us a confused glance, pausing at Meeko. I saw his eyes narrow slightly, and then return to their original shape.

"It's good to see you without the bloody look, Damion." I began in false cheer, saying the first thing that came to mind. Anything to divert the range of emotions to someone other than his trainer. Joe hissed from behind me, the pain making him cross. "Okay, no jokes. Joe says he needs a drink of water for a burn he's got. Wanna help?"

"A fire type wanting a drink? For a burn?" He said, walking up to Joe. The boy nodded painfully, holding out his hands.

I was hoping Joe looked away when Damion trickled the stream into his hands. Yeah, the water looked drinkable when it was in a huge torrent, but when coming out at such a slow rate, it just seemed like abnormally thin spit. Joe didn't seem to mind, lapping it up greedily without a word of thanks. They did this three or four times more before Joe allowed him to stop.

"The fire stopped moving. Burned my throat." He explained in a fragile voice.

"Is it serious?" Jill said, helping him up with a vine.

The boy shook his head. "Only hurts when I swallow now. Thanks."

Damion said he was glad to help, though the reply wasn't aimed at its true target. He'd turned to look up at Meeko once again, wondering if he should hate his trainer or condone him. The last he recalled-and this was quite literal, since everything after Waterburn's fury up until consciousness in the pokéball had been blurred-Meeko was making him battle no more than half an hour after winning one for him at the gym. There was also that injury he'd gotten, bloated and streaming with a rapidly blooming infection. Then again... Meeko fixed it all. Damion wasn't sure how he knew this (most likely blood still rich with the psychic healing whispered it to him), but something other than the technology of a hospital had cured him of his chest wound. And Meeko was a part of it.

"Don't do that to me again." It made no difference whether this was the first time the totodile tried talking to Meeko or the last time; the boundaries of language were near impossible to breach.

Meeko shrugged, not daring to add any humor in his face if such a look was deemed inappropriate for the moment. "I can't understand you, I'm sorry. For both things." He acted out tearing his own gut open to clarify.

Damion heard footsteps behind him, and side stepped out of the way in a distracted gesture.

"Accept his apology, Damion. He's helped both of us." Joe said quietly, as always, and smiled up at the human. "I would have been captured if he didn't come, and I really don't want that to happen."

"Yeah, and you should've seen his face when that guy stole you." I added in helpfully.

"Someone took me?"

"Took us both." Rowan chirped beside Meeko's ear. Her claws, still aching for battle, made deep crevices in the shirt they clung to. Meeko lightly batted her from his shoulder. It still amazed Meeko to know that they were all talking to each other, that those grunts and growls were an actual unified language.

"...and he got us back." Even if this statement lacked the higher note which came with all questions, Joe nodded an answer. Damion sighed, realizing that he had no choice in the matter. Say 'yes Meeko, I forgive you for treating me like you're better than me. Group hug everyone!' or say the complete opposite. Either way that damned pokéball would come for him. Either way he would be sent into battle, get hurt, get healed, for all he knew get stolen again, which might not even be so bad after all. Nothing would change. He envied the wild blood in Joe, Jill, and me, and our chainless way of living. Had I known that this was what he was thinking, I would have laughed in his face. Blood's not as tuned to the ways of the wild as you may think, Damion. Ha-ha.

Another hopeless sigh, one out of hundreds of thousands he would heave when his puppet master got the strings tangled. "Is there a gym leader here you want me to beat for you?"

Meeko looked at us to verify, and I gave him an unsmiling thumbs up. Dirt on the ground or not, I wouldn't tell him how grudgingly Damion said this, or the hopeless anger I saw dancing in his eyes. His captured eyes. I wouldn't tell him that the very claws the totodile had curled into a firs were fated to rip the life out of him.


	22. Betrayal Lurking

Previously, on The Changlings... _Upon arrival to Goldrenrod City and healing of the party, Meeko set off at once for the gym. He was interuppted by a pair of thieves, who took his badges, pokémon, and Joe. In the end Meeko prevented the capture of Joe, successfully retrieving his badges. The trainer apologized to Damion for harsh treatment in chapters too far behind to talk about._

Currently Injured: Meeko, suffering from a black eye. Status is Mild Discomfort.

Author's Note: Jeez. X.x I finished the last half of this chapter in an unexpected writing mood. To answer a little confusion, what I meant from 'wow, already?' was the gym battle request when they'd just gotten to the city. I really just wanna get out of Goldenrod as fast as possible. And the italics might have /these/ on them because of a little thing I do, just ignore em. I'm sick of deleting them on these documents every time I submit a chapter. XP

* * *

**Chapter Twenty two: Betrayal Lurking**

One of the few things I'd always dreaded in my Gold version years was the gym leader that used a milktank. It always took an an insanely large amount of upping the levels on my team to actually kill the thing, and I expected the same thing to happen here. We really, really didn't have time for this. I told myself to ask him to skip this gym if he lost, just as soon as I found some goddamn //_dirt_// to write on.

The gym leader there surpassed all the strangeness of the previous. Whitney was...interesting to say the least. I know it's an overused saying, but that word just doesn't seem to cover all the weirdness factor in the pink haired (yes, yet another odd color) woman. I'd expected her to be younger than she looked, not a day over nineteen. Instead, she had that matured body of someone in their late twenties, possibly early thirties. Her eyes hinted battle weariness and an early retirement in the fighting business. I didn't blame her at all. She'd been dozing in a bed of flowers when we approached her at the end of the gym, and looked piteously zenned out. At the mention of a challenge, her lips puckered in a minute pout. Seems that there was a teenager in her after all, maybe even a small child.

I expected that it was a two-on-two battle, and that one of them was a clefairy at level eighteen while the other was a milktank at level twenty, the last bearing stats of one at thirty. I foresaw him beating the stuffing out of the first pokémon, losing miserably to the second and then having to start over again after a few days of poking sticks at trainers. And repeat. All while the day went by and our human bodies slowly skinnied in some spots and fattened up in others, a brainless trickle of drool gathering on our shirts. Even if the plug was still in by the time we returned, we would be weakened with the lack of movement for so long, and our skin dry parchment against the hollows of our cheeks. Skeletal things not worth rejoining.

Seriously, I applauded Meeko's cleverness in the fight when no eyes were focused on the miniature yellow spot in the corner. As expected, there was a clefairy to beat, and he used his geodude to finish that annoyance up in good time. Why did Whitney even bother putting the thing in?

Both combatants were recalled, there was witty talk exchanged between the two (//_that_// was something both reality and tv show just couldn't afford to be without), and then our pink haired battler sent out the big one, that miltank. Meeko's pick was, to me, one of the worst he could have chosen. It was a gastly, something the rollout would knock out in two shots, maybe less. I was already contemplating what I would say to our soon-to-be loser when he made his genius move.

"Curse!" He shouted with a smile. Of course. Meeko visited his dad here since god knew when. He was a curious young child then who no doubt watched the gym battles for entertainment in an environment not used to kids. He'd seen the comings and goings of different miltanks and repetitive attack techniques: infactuate, rollout, rollout, heal, repeat. It usually took one cycle per pokémon, and then the fight was over. Meeko remembered how he had laughed at the defeated or punched the air in success if he happened to win a bet against the neighborhood children. He'd witness this one stragedy by a trainer and never forgot it; such a quick victory has a way of clinging to your mind.

Graphic details really aren't needed when there's nothing extraordinary to tell. He recalled his self-weakened ghost and sent out the geodude from before. The rollout's strength, given the type match ups, creeped upward at a slow pace. Too slow. The bite of the curse gradually brought down the milktank's stanima, racing well past the rate of self healing. The battle was pretty much over, and both trainers knew that. Twice now Whitney faced the consequences of a curse, but she could only hope it wouldn't happen again. This was the limit her two-man team could go before purchasing new ones.

Ten minutes later, Meeko was leaving the gym with the badge in hand. The plain badge was... plain, not to state the obvious. On a shine scale it matched in greatness, but I prefered our decorative zephyr badges myself.

"I'm sure Damion's pretty happy..." I said briskly as the two got within earshot. "It must be nice to have a day off for once."

"Mmm." Joe rasped in a distracted tone. He looked towards the end of the city, above it, once I followed his gaze. The eyes scanned for an object that wasn't there.

"Bird watching?"

"Tower watching."

At first I was struck with a flare of puzzlement- and then realization. I wasn't ready to admit that for a moment I'd forgotten the whole point of our journey: getting to Ecruteak and finding the burned tower there. It was like a history question you'd drilled into your head a month ago. The answer still sat in your head, but it was getting dusty. The idea of letting our destination 'get dusty' to a point where I couldn't see it anymore frightened me. Was it possible this universe was destroying the memories of our old life until we became like Shimmertail? Assuming we didn't die beforehand? I joined the charmander (no, the boy, the /_boy_/) in his search for any shy spire tips over the horizon. The Tin Tower tips marked the beginning of the end, pardon the cliche.

As funny as it was, I was starting to feel homesick... Not just for the world I know and love, but the familiar faces rotting away in it. My face. Jill's, Joe's, and Marc's. Even my mom. Conjuring up her accented voice felt too thickly weaved by imagination and too thinly by memory. This sort of clumsy skip down memory/ imagination lane felt like a knife shanking away at my gut.

"Don't let yourselves get anxious, you two." Jill admonished, deliberately keeping her eyes from straying to the sky above the city gate. She knew there was no tower there, even if my own eyes kept up their desperate search. "We still don't know what are next step is once we get there. We don't even know if it's the right place."

"I didn't ask for a Moral-killer. We'll deal with that issue when we get there." Jeez, did she have to be so /_negative_/? So horrifically truthful every time my hopes got up?

The pace continued at the irate speed of someone who walked on two legs. To Meeko it must have been a steady speed walk, which made things all the more annoying. He would bump into everyone who happened to slither up on his blind side. Things would fall, spicy words would be exchanged, and then we'd be on our merry way at 0.002 miles an hour. I vowed to become a sprinter when I got back to my world or go insane with the slowness.

Meeko gave us a brief commentary on the place, not bothering to watch for an oncoming train as we passed by the set of tracks running through the city. He said the trains stopped running about four months ago, a small mystery that I remembered was solved in Gold version, but not recalling the actual answer as to why. There was an enormous sky scraper that he claimed was the department store across from the hospital; full of trainers, tourists, and high prices. Another place was this shady underground shortcut on the outer rim of the city, and he had yet to venture down it.

When we finally reached the gate and went through it, stubborn parts of the city still lingered. The smell, the perpetual smog-blanketed sky, and some typical city pokémon guarded Goldenrod's exit. These signs of bustling life soon faded, however, when we entered the National Park. It amazed me that something so beautiful could live so close to a parasite like Goldrenrod and not be tainted by it. I breathed in the first lungful of pure air since Ilex, picturing it flushing away all the polution I'd inhaled.

I was happy to stay here for a little while, gather my thoughts and rid myself of the city's unclean air, but Meeko continued along the park's cobbled road without a second glance. He'd either been here too many times in the past to care anymore, or maybe it was the rush of winning his gym battle. The way he sauntered by the cheerful passersby without even a 'hi, how are you, eye's fine, thanks' were the gestures of an ingrate. How many other places in his region matched the serenity this one held? No more than how many our world had, and here he was walking by it. Until Meeko, I'd never met a person who didn't bother to smell the roses when they were shoved right in his face. Why was he so cold?

//**_Everyone's got a Shadow, Jade. His is just growing faster. _**// The Voice willed me to look right, where our shadows danced jerkily along the ground. It may have been because Meeko was so tall, but, yes indeed, his shadow stretched extraordinarily longer than our own. //**_Don't be alarmed, though. This is normal._**//

//_Normal letting freaky creatures in your head slowly take over your body? Sure._//

//**_What you call 'creatures' and what is merely instinct are one in the same, yellow pest. Humans are animals. Life is distressing...yet bearable, thanks to us. We interfere more and more as one ages._**//

//_Innocence of the youth._// The thought bloomed in my head like blood from a shaving cut.

//**_Smart girl._**//

Biting down the shivers, I looked back at Joe's shadow, comparing it to the fleeting height of my own. It was disfigured and comfortably short, unlike mine or Meeko's. Was that why those younger in years were happier? Were they so blind to the horrors of the world that the need for a Voice...for an instinct, was discarded?

//**_Think of that book you read once. About the kids on that island. How the older ones changed while the small remained the small._**//

//_...yeah. Golding really knew what he was talking about._//

//**_Because his instinct had flowered in the war he took part in. He knew all about us. That 'evilness'._**// Voice or not, I pictured this last word in sarcastic quotations.

//_But you _are _evil! You only make us be bad!_//

//**_Since when has the fight for survival been a kind thing?_**//

I gritted my teeth as if I could catch any mental remark before it made its way to the brain. There was nothing to snag. Sighing, a cloud of mist puffing out of existence, I turned away from the shadows. It may have been the movement of the sun that made my shadow (and mine only) seem longer than usual. Or maybe not.

God, this was all so confusing.

-scene change-

It turned out, the short stretch of road connecting the Park to Ecruteak was as stretched out as a 'short' road could possibly get. By about five miles. I'd rather have had to brave two more Goldenrods than walk along this dirt path...mainly because it was so brain knumbingly //_boring_//. The only thing remotely interesting had been some maniac taking photos of us in the woods beside the road. He had that killer/ rapist appearence, and I was glad he'd decided we weren't odd looking enough to follow when we got out of sight. Nutjobs were common in every corner of the universes, it seemed.

As I said before, progess was slow with Meeko. He still wasn't used to walking so much in one day, so rests were long and frequent. The going got slower as his exhaustion (and eventually ours), the afternoon melting into early evening. Every mile someone made it their mission to nail colorful, Disney movie- worthy signs saying "Having a good time? Only so-and-so miles left to Ecruteak!". At the third and final sign of the day for us a traveler had illustrated his own colorful opinion about the five mile walk.

We settled down next to the sign, finding comfort roosting in the presence of an item carved by human hands. Meeko pulled out his sleeping bag, which had the sad look of an old object that was never used before age and moths had feasted away at its usefulness. I saw a grimace on his face when he knelt inside the thin enclosure and felt that typical spike of unnecessary irritation at his tenderness. //_Go easy, go easy... You'd be dead on your feet one month ago._//

The sleeping bag whispered Meeko's movements everytime he felt the need to shift his position. And there was quite a lot of whispering. For someone as tired as he made himself appear, the kid just had to get in that right spot before allowing himself to fall asleep... I was too tired to tell him off.

Jill and I curled up within the large arc of our younger companion, lulled by the gentle strokes of his persistent flame. Always a sucker for the pleasures of heat, I felt myself whisked off to sleep almost at once. Off to dreams where the North Star was north, animals were stupid, and the fading figures of my family called out to us in anguish. I had enough time to wonder if I would be walking on four legs or two when they started.

oo00oo

Meeko felt a peculiar sense of loneliness watching the three fall asleep. There wasn't much in the world worse to him than being the last of a group to nod off. He always took that as a sign; if anything bad would happen at night, he, the night watch would be blamed for it. The boy sat up, upsetting the sleeping bag into a small series of hissing squeals. He patted at his left eye, wincing at the pain, but liking the alien feel of his swelled up face. It would go down a little by morning.

A pattering of disturbed pebbles made the coldness of the night go from mild to moderate on his exposed arms. The sound came from the trees on his left, a mistake (or was it intentional?) made by what was watching the quad from its web, or hole in the ground, or what ever the hell it was. Meeko didn't dare turn his head to look into the yawning dark. That would only freak him out more. His hand reached down for a pokéball.

//_You don't have them, remember? You took the belt off so you could be comfortable, and they're all lined up in between you and Joe._//

Another noise, closer this time, one that had that 'screw it, he knows I'm here' carelessness as it advanced. The goose bumps tip toed from his arms up to his neck, and sweat popped out on his forehead. He wouldn't scream//_couldn't_// until he saw it for himself. Saw the thing that made the thumps in his closet, made the faucet drip even when he'd turned the handles as far as they could go, made the ghostly flashes appear in a certain spot in his room. The answer to childhood mysteries, he decided, was in the woods not more than two meters away from him. Was he dreaming?

He just wanted the noises to go away (it were these quiet rustles and patters that would make him break, make him jump up and run away screaming) and surprisingly, they did. The expectant silence was worse than the thing's approach. This was when the giant monster was supposed to lunge and drag its victim shrieking back to its home.

It wasn't a monster that reached out for the terrified boy- only an arm which held a strength uncanny for its gaunt size. The hand seized his upper arm, dragging Meeko into the forest. Before he could play his role as that unlucky kid who kicked and screamed and disturbed the hell out of the watching audience, the other hand, cold and clammy, spread over his face. Granted no breath to scream with, he made his struggle silently, clawing at the fabric on those arms, those damn arms, shoeless heels scuffling away at the evergreens around him. He lurched backwards like a desperate animal, trying to call out to Jade, Jill, Joe//_anybody_//.

The man- for it was a male, given his superiority over Meeko and the smell of the hand currently crushing his nose and mouth- continued until the tail of the charmander was no longer in sight.

"I'm taking my hand away. If you scream, it comes back up again and won't be leaving until your blood is saturated in it." The man threatened, removing his hand. Meeko panted, regaining the breath stolen from him. "I'm not going to hurt you if things turn out like they should be."

He fumbled with some object, a flashlight maybe, or a gun, and clicked a switch. His face and part of Meeko's lit up in dim light. Shock bled into the boy's face.

"You're that...that lunatic who was taking pictures of us!" Only now he didn't look so much like a lunatic. He wore formal clothes and had combed and gelled his hair back. The body piercings, fake to begin with, were gone. He looked like a professional lawyer.

"And to all the other criminals I catch, a tourist, a professional photographer, a high school student working for the yearbook..." He grinned slyly. "Must I go on?"

"I'm not a criminal." Meeko replied in a low voice. He shook off the other hand still clamped around his arm.

Using his free hand, the detective pulled out several pictures of Meeko that very afternoon, spreading them out with his fingers. There were some close ups on the tags each of the pokémon bore.

"You're currently harboring property of New Bark Town's Pokémon Facility. It has been considered unintentional until now, and you will be arrested if you don't return the property by tomorrow at this time."

Meeko tried swallowing, but his mouth had mysteriously run dry. "Why don't you just take them right now?" He asked, finding it hard to keep from looking away.

"...you and I know they're different. That's all I can say." The man cleared his throat, putting the photographs back in his pocket. "At the border of this route and Ecruteak, men will be waiting to detain them. I will be watching to make sure you don't try running off." He held up the camera wrapped around his neck. Another, a video camera no doubt, clattered against his chest at the movement. "Hand them over without struggle, and we'll let you continue on your way. Refuse, and you'll have the right to remain silent."

Numb, Meeko turned his head back at the camp where he just barely made out the orange glow of fire. Hand them over? Back to that lab?

"You know what they really are, don't you?" He said quietly, eyes still preying on the flame. "You all knew right from the start."

"We may have, and we may not. That information's not for you to know."

"That's why you gave them those pointless IQ tests when they got old enough. This has happened before, these 'special' pokémon," Meeko turned to face the man once again. "hasn't it?"

"It might have...and it might not." He repeated, stone faced. "All you need to worry about is giving them back and not breathing a word of ever knowing they existed. For your own safety."

"You'll get my answer tomorrow."

"Then go. Remember that I'm watching you, boy. Recording everything you do and say." The man pushed Meeko back towards camp, watching him stumble over his feet in shock and exhaustion. He continued to watch until the boy had curled back into his sleeping bag, and even then kept a watchful eye. There would be no running tonight.

Back in the semi-safety of the sleeping bag, Meeko curled into a tight ball of nervousness. His heart clattered around in his breast like some discarded tin can, and the fourteen year old wanted nothing more than to go back in time, make it so he never released them all in the first place... But if he hadn't...

//_If I didn't those Rockets would've killed me. Would've killed Damion just for the fun of it, then thrown my body somewhere deeper inside. They saved my _life//

He shifted noisily, stirring the one they said was only eleven years old. An eleven year old little kid stuck in that lizard body, doomed to spend the rest of his life in a cage. Tomorrow would be the last time he saw sunlight.

There just wasn't anything Meeko could fucking //_do_// about it. He was surrounded by these lab guys, separated only by a distance of two miles from one, three from the other, and fifty feet from this prick. What the hell was he supposed to do?

The wind picked up as if to taunt him, and he shivered inside his useless sleeping bag. Joe (he could picture them calling him Joe-Joe or Joey not so long ago) saw this and slowly pulled away from his slumbering friends. He crawled on his knees towards Meeko, lying down next to the trainer to share his heat. The gesture cut away at his heart of granite.

Minutes went by, and soon Joe was asleep again, lost in his own dream world of unfamiliar things: bob cats, iguanas, and a constellation called the Big Dipper being only a few of them.

The boy, for that's what he was, a helpless budding teenager living on his own, heaved a miserable sigh. He sat torn in two: betray the humans it was almost safe to call friends, or fight for their bodies to the end, even if the end was a life behind bars? Faced with the pain of this tearing, this impossible decision, Meeko buried his face into the moth eaten fabric of his sleeping bag and cried.


	23. Past his Point

Previously, on The Changlings... _Oh, it hasn't been that long, has it? They got out of the city, and some creep working for the lab in new Bark Town's making Meeko hand the trio over at the end of the five mile hike._

Currently Injured: No one for once. XP

Author's Note: This chapter was very fun to write. - !Enjoy, mi amigos!

**Chapter Twenty three: Past his Point**

"Having a good time? Only half a mile left to Ecruteak!"

The sign screamed our excitement, while the vandilism and profanity scribbed across it expressed our impatience.

I had woken up in the absence of the warmth that had carried me off to Dreamland last night. We all shared a small breakfast together, where Meeko properly introduced to us his team as we ate. The new appearences had been Iggy, his togepie(sp?), Mysty the gastly, and Rox, his geodude.

After the meal, we'd walked in silence, our eyes to the sky and Meeko's to the ground. It was apparent that he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night; the weary redness inside his half closed lids was proof of that.

Tin Tower could be seen by the last mile mark of the walk. Never had I thought something so... unmodern could reach up to scales of this height. And then I remembered its destroyed sibling. They were amazing pieces of woodwork, yet painfully fragile to the elements.

Looking back on it, there really was no way we could have predicted Meeko was going to hand us over to our best buddies from the lab. The nervous way he looked off into the woods and over his shoulder could have been the stubborn fear of another mugger. The sluggish, reluctant way he walked could've been a result of a restless night in his sleeping bag. How silent he was when we started up again... the guilty looks he gave us... I admit I had been confused by the behavior, but no, not suspicious not at all. I didn't think for a moment that he would betray us.

Which was what made it all the more agonizing. At the .5 mile mark, Joe was near rabid with excitement, his spirits high despite the cold fact that only three of the four of us would be rising from our comas today. Thanks to the unfriendly comments Jill threw out in the open yesterday, my outlook on this wasn't nearly as bright. That dreaded 'what if...' nagged at the back of my head.

Meeko lingered in front of the sign, probably to read the comments scribbled across it, and we walked on ahead of him. We were heedless to the doom waiting for us, watching us, making sure the one bringing us to them didn't say the wrong thing.

"Uh...guys?" Meeko called in a shockingly unstable voice, hardly low enough in the squeak factor for it to be considered a call at all.

Curious, we all turned around to look at him simultaneously. My god, he looked so pale. Was he sick or something? He leaned against the sign as if he were about to faint. I noticed the small tremor in his hands, and how the nails bit so, so deeply into the wood.

"Jill, Jade, Joe... I-I need to tell you something."

"Shoot." I said nervously and opened my arms out, ready to embrace what ever it was he wanted to say. The speaker didn't seem quite as willing. He had that wild, knumbingly calm face people held at gunpoint would make.

"You... you have to get out of here. Through the woods. Anywhere but the road." Meeko said this in a clumsy mumble, all but his lips stuck in time to form that chilling, hostage face. When we made to walk towards him, bewildered, there was a great rustling from the woods on both sides of the road. His eyes widened, and his voice rose crazily in volume. "//_If you ever want to get home again then RUN AWAY NOW!_//"

Had he finally gone nuts? Had his Shadow Voice, instinct, what-ever-you-want-to-call-it rattled his head around one too many times? Nonetheless, his threats of home getting out of reach brought the blood to my legs. I swerved around on my heels, heading down the road towards Ecruteak. The Voice's frantic advice was drowned out by the roar of blood in my ears. My cheeks near sang with electricity, discharging every few moments with a mini explosion of heat. The other two bounded after me, all the while those noises, those anonymous snapping of branches and tumbles of dirt, closed in around us. Instead of hearing it, Jill and Joe must have sensed their approach, the way a fish may sense an oncoming net and slip away at the last instant. Behind us, Meeko uttered a scream of surprised pain. It lasted less than a second, but its affect was enough to make me falter in my sprint. I could smell clothes burning.

"Oh my god, oh my god..." I heard Jill whispering fiercely to herself, smelled the unmistakable scent of fear overpowering the odor of Meeko's clothes. "What the hell is //_happening_//, oh my god..."

The noises were entities now, dark fleeting shapes protected by a layer of trees. They with their longer legs outran us, boxing us in like sheepdogs to cattle. Some ran out into the road a few yards ahead, pokéballs in hand. It was hard to determine who they really were; none wore any type of garment to give themselves away. I knew we could probably take them down as we ran past, but how could one tell the difference between a pokéball that was full or one that was empty? I wasn't going to take that chance.

"Turn around!" Jill yelled shrilly. Apparently, neither was she.

We could go anywhere but up or down and it wouldn't make a difference. The Voice knew this and was moaning its sad songs in my head.

//**_You'll die now, pichu. Oh pity, I never had the chance to surface before I was taken on the endless journey with you..!_**//

//_They aren't killing us. They need us._// No freaky, shockingly accurate hunch right now. It was just something to keep the coldness quiet. In reality, I had no idea if that was true or not.

When I turned around, I saw Meeko kneeling under the sign in submission, head down, and backpack seized from some man I thought looked familiar. His hands were cuffed to the post, Meeko's I mean, and when he looked up to watch us, I immediately knew he was somehow responsible for this. That ravenous guilt stood out clearly in his eyes. //_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry._// Those guilt haunted eyes pleaded. Jill and Joe picked up on the distraught expression on his face not an instant after I had.

More men, slinking out of the woods in front of Meeko, stood waiting to corner us. I heard the excited murmurs ("the tags...", "we finally got 'em back...") hissing about on each side from the forest. Trapped by those lab freaks, oh my god, trapped in a circle with no where to go. And it was all Meeko's fault.

"We were so close! How could you dothis, how /_could_/you!? You betrayed us, like Damion's gonna betray you!" Joe screeched out his sorrow and emotional agony as the circle of men drew their living net tighter. "I hope he kills you slow, you... you //_bastard_//, you mother fu-"

One of them jabbed at the shrieking child with a stick, and his words melded into a single throaty syllable of pain. I recognized the way he convulsed as an electric attack. I saw no lights on his body, only heard the whine of pleasure it made when it found skin. Spittle flew from his lips and dribbled down his chin. Dear god, I could smell his skin burning. When I began to scream, begging for them to stop, stop, please stop, the man with the taser pulled away. Joe crumbled first to his knees, and then face first in the road.

//_Those things would kill Marc,_// I thought, crawling backwards into Jill's front leg. //_and short circuit me._//

It was actually happening when we were so close, just as Joe had screamed. Of all the times for a disaster to whisk us away from our destination, it had to be when we were within walking distance of it. Balancing a treat over a dog's snout until he is at the edge of self control... and then snatching it away. I felt tears wetting the spots of fur around my eyes. Jill was crying too; all doubt that Burned Tower wasn't the right place was gone. It was the right place. It //_had_// been. Somewhere in the smoldering remains of the building, there was a way home.

Two taser-weilding men thrusted their arms forward, weapons unfortunately finding purchase. Jill's screams were blotted out by my own. There was a reaction of some kind going on in my cheeks, where those odd electric cells stood waiting to be used. The invisible electricity preyed down on these bits of unexplainable flesh, killed them swifter than any frostbite could destroy a toe.

A harsh, convulsing kick from Jill knocked me to the ground, where I writhed on my back in not-so-silent agony. The fur on my heels, worn away by travel, ripped clean off as they scraped against the dirt. Who had time to think clearly with so much pain going on? Thoughts were fragmented and confusing, making about as much sense as dreams from one half asleep.

//_Oh god this hurts my head is breaking I can't breathe out let me out go away please please PLEASE._//

oo00oo

"Stop it! Leave them alone, god dammit!" Meeko shouted as the men lunged, lurching his body forward. The cuff dug shallow crevices into his wrist, but that wasn't what was stopping him from dragging the sign out of the ground in an escape attempt. Pressure sensitive depressions sat along the links and rings- now they were disturbed, and Meeko got his own small taste of the bitter flavors those prod sticks had to offer. It was too short a period to cause any of the pain his friends were suffering, none of that terrifying scream out loud and squirm crap.

His left hand was restrained in the handcuff, and the photographing prick had moved his backpack items and belt out of reach. He was stuck to this post, unable to move too much without ticking off the buttons near his wrist. Meeko couldn't even hold both his ears to blot out the pair's screams. All he could use was his voice, a sense that was mocked at and scorned by the men around him. Were these the people he'd lived with in his town, feared as a child (how rational a fear it was now), even looked up to when they had been only a single step above amateurs? He tried peering past the faces of the apprehensive, the irritated, and the gleeful to try identifying them, and found this task impossible.

He could picture the twins as writhing humans (and they weren't modest body-wise; the lust of a male lacks an off switch by fourteen) instead of animals: their similarly colored hair smearing in the road, one strangling on her own spit. The images of the suffering siblings burned behind the retinas of his eyes, and he was helpless to look away. Meeko both hated and loved the sight of them twisting their limbs every which way in agony. It made his blood go up, made him wish for a shock stick of his own so he could stab the nearest living thing and die knowing that he'd hurt a person enough to make them scream.

Such thoughts were terrifying.

When Jill and Jade stopped shrieking, the two men pulled away. The torture had lasted only five seconds, an eternity to those on the receiving end. A small throng of men gathered around each body, binding their ankles and wrists together in plastic handcuffs.

"You can't do this to them! They need to get home!" Meeko yelled, only attracting the attention of the one man he didn't want to talk with. The photographer took both cameras from his neck (the straps had steadily scraped the skin away back there) and placed them on the side of the road. He walked up to the boy, left eyebrow raised.

"We most certainly can do this, uh..." He turned to the nearest man in question, another town friend who had sold his soul.

"You could have the sack to ask me yourself, dickweed. The name's Meeko." He snarled, knowing it was a useless task lying about it.

"Call me Griffin, Meeko. Or Bryan. Alexander, if you'd like." The nameless man grinned. He was far cockier now that they had retrieved what was once taken from them. "How in the world did I know you wouldn't stay true to your word..? It was a smart move positioning these men up here. And look! We've even been blessed with a proper place to put you while we're off shipping the three back to New Bark Town."

Unable to do anything else, Meeko spat on Griffin/Bryan/Alex's pant leg. He'd gone for his shoe, but the way he had to turn his head to look up at the photographer mutilated his aim. The man scowled at the mess on his jeans, and turned to the group. "Get them to the trucks. Everyone, follow in case the three awaken on the way."

"You can't do this to them." Meeko repeated as the men began leaving the area. "It's cruel."

"It's for the study of mankind."

"Someone will come by and see me like this. They'll get me out."

"Not if the road has been closed off at all three entrance points." Griffin scoffed softly. "Didn't you find it odd that you hadn't seen one passing trainer the entire way here? You're an ignorant boy who shouldn't be poking his nose in a place where he is surely to be bitten."

At a loss for a decent reply, Meeko allowed Griffin to turn his back to him without insult. The photographer refused to say another word, despite any persisting questions. Sighing in defeat, the boy looked down the road at the group of men and women, silently begging for the trio to awaken.

One goal was on Meeko's mind at the moment: escaping without getting spotted by Griffin. His only option was breaking the post in half, and since he was chained so closely to it, kicking it wouldn't do unless he wanted to get electricuted. As time went on, however, he began to grow desperate. He readied to aim a kick at the sign post, feeling Griffin's eyes skittering on his back like sharp footed insects. He curled his right hand around the links of the cuffs, balling both hands into fists. Then, with a mighty lurch, he pulled his body away from the sign. Before he could even pull his leg back to gain momentum, the electricity stopped Meeko in his tracks. Screaming, he leaned forward against the wood to deactivate the handcuffs. His fingers twitched spasmonically even after the shock stopped. Far away, he heard Griffin clapping.

"Good job, Meeko. You can sit there and slowly kill yourself while I take a quick rest stop." The man was already unclipping his belt as he walked into the woods. "Make my life easier; let me come back to a corpse."

So this was his only chance. He highly doubted Griffin would go to the bathroom again before the men returned for him. It was either get out now and run away, or die trying. Wincing at the expected pain, Meeko pulled.

This electricity wasn't like most shocks he'd experienced. The ones of the past had forcefully pushed Meeko out of their range, while these seemed to pull his body towards them like magnets of opposite poles. In a way he was grateful for this. The only thing that would keep him from escaping would be his own endurance.

"//_Fuck!_//" Meeko gasped, leaning back into the pole. He gritted his teeth at the sweltering skin along his wrist and struggled to get his breath back. His heart beat away at the bones on his chest. "Fuh... fuck..."

The boy looked up at his progress on the post. //_No good. Pulling won't work. I need to kick off it..._//

But how could he? He couldn't even pull back long enough to give his feet time to line up against the pole. And even if he did manage to get good footholds, he could die before the wood snapped.

//_Remember... you don't have much to lose here. Just a lot at stake._// Trying and failing to calm his shuddery breaths, Meeko got his feet in position. He could hear Griffin calling his name, asking if he was dead yet so he could be on his way. This was the only chance he had now if he wanted to run away.

Meeko's first instinct was to lean back against the pole as soon as the shocks started. Instead, he dug his heels into the ground to stop the movement, and allowed himself to scream. It felt better that way, being able to hear the sound of his voice rather than of the greedy hum of electricity lancing through his body. He closed his eyes, now wet with tears, and forced his writhing feet up against the wooden pole. Putting his weight on them, he jerked backwards as if kicking off the side of a pool. A satisfying crunch told him he'd damaged it, but not all the way, not enough to free him from these light knives. His breath was running out, and he found that he'd forgotten how to inhale. His legs were strengthless, unable to reward Meeko with another kick off.

As limited as his movement was, Meeko had no idea how limited until he realized he couldn't unlatch his feet from the pole. Something was wrong, how he was leaning back, most likely. He was only granted with the simple thought //_uh oh_// before the electricution shot past his point of endurance. His eyes rolled back farther than he thought possible, and he felt the pain of the muscles in his eye sockets as they were stretched to their own limits. Blood gushed from his nostrils in a sickening stream, spattering over his face and shirt. When he felt the warmth of it running down his neck, felt the searing yet inferior pain as the handcuffs melded with the charred skin on his wrist, Meeko decided that he would die, and very soon.

So why did he keep on living? Did some part of him disagree with this acceptance of death? Meeko felt new found strength pound in his limbs and head in a mad rush. He breathed in so harshly(yes, this was how you do it, he recalled) , his lungs buldged painfully in his chest. A flickery image of Jill, Jade, and Joe survived the turmoil going on in that wreck of a brain.

//_You must live to help them. That's your purpose in this universe._// The thought came out of no where, sounding far too formal to be normal. It's truth sent a shaft of coldness down his spine, temporarily negating the heat.

//_I'm their guardian._//

Curling his lips back and pulling inward like a coiled spring, Meeko kicked away from the post. It snapped in two immediatly, felling the colorful "Having a good time?!" sign above it. Meeko felt his body, humming with numbness, sail through the air and into the pile of his belongings. He tasted copper in his mouth and was overwhelmed by its heavy scent perfuming the inside of his nose. He forced his eyes open, fearing that they, like his left wrist to the hand cuff, were sealed together.

Beside him in the forest side of the road, Griffin's cameras stared at him through their obsidian lenses. With a trembling hand, he pressed the record button on the video camera, and then let it go slack in the dirt. His heart, still beating after such an abuse, made great tremors over his blood stained chest. Meeko made sure he was still breathing when he passed out.

oo00oo

"I thought you had died." Griffin's voice dragged the boy out of his stupor. Meeko's limbs had feeling again, and his pulse was now beating at an almost healthy rate of 88 beats a minute.

"You'd like that...wouldn't you?" Meeko coughed out, pulling his right hand up to wipe the blood from his face. Lightly blood kissed areas were already dry and cracked. His other hand, glued to the cuffs that nearly killed him, reached up to scratch at his head. Small clumps of dark hair plucked effortlessly from his scalp and fluttered down to keep other fallen hairs company. Feeling this loss, Meeko swore.

"Burned to the roots, I'm afraid. There won't be any hair there for a while." Griffin sounded snide, but curiously quiet. He flicked Meeko's hat towards the boy, and it landed neatly on his chest. "Really, I expected to see your dead body cooling on that sign post by the time I got back. Instead, I discover the unconscious form of a stupid child who is still very much alive."

"This can't be...be legal." Meeko stumbled over his words. It was hard to talk when your tongue was so unresponsive.

"No, it can't. That's why we have to kill you when the time is right."

"Why not right now?"

"Meeko, not everyone in my band of followers are keen to murder and kidnapping. In those particular issues, they are as dedicated to the law as you."

The boy processed this. So, they weren't as heartless as he assumed. "What would you call taking those three then?"

"...animal control."

"But they can't stay in cages! They don't belong here, they need to get back to their own unive-!" The moment the beginning of 'universe' left his lips, Griffin snaked out his arm and constricted it around Meeko's neck. The end of the word shriveled in his throat.

"Listen, you little worm," All the calmness leeched out of Griffin's hiss of a whisper. "I'm not the only one doing the recording in this job. Some information is far too important for it to settle on everyone's ears. Some people can't handle it. Some people may question our sanity, report what we've been doing here since your dad was a snot nosed child. I am in no mood for a life long trip to an asylum, boy. Say the wrong thing and I will reactivate the handcuffs until that heart of yours explodes." He released his hand.

Meeko nodded mutely, trying to cloak the fear slowly creeping into his face. So...not everyone in his little gang knew why these three- and many other subjects before- were so precious. A few experienced lab employees might know, but the fickle ones... They couldn't be told that these pokémon were living proof of alternate universes. The sane wouldn't accept it, no more than he had at first. And neither would the government.

"I will say now that I and few others are aware of these universal foreigners. They crossed our borders illegally, however, and so we must search for the immigrants and deport them." Griffin smiled at the genius of his comparision, still using that hushed voice of his. "Wait, no, not deport them. We must keep them in prison and interrogate them, milk out as much information they have on the world they came from. At least until they begin to grow feral. Then, we use the pokéballs, or just kill them. Humanely, of course."

"You're one sick prick, Griffin. If you know why they're...special, you should understand why you can't put them in cages!"

"I'll do what I please! This phenomenon is a miracle to all life as we know it. Do you think I would cease such important studies as a gesture of //_conscience_//?"

"It's the right thing to do." Meeko said simply, sitting up. Griffin showed no alarm in this. The kid may have survived the hand cuffs, but there was no way in hell he could outrun a grown man.

"Obeying the law has become a matter of choice, Meeko. Your murder can easily be disguised as a tragic accident."

"No, it can't. Live video doesn't lie." He reached out and grabbed Griffin's video camera, looping it over his neck. Although every muscle in his body screamed otherwise, he shakily got to his feet and turned around to look the photographer in the eye. Bits of hair twirled down from their unsteady perches on his shoulders. To Griffin's horror, a red light shone above the face of the lense. "Say cheese, fucker. You're gonna be on national television. Might as well look nice for the occassion."

How long had that been running? Had he neglected ever turning it off since his spying on the boy that morning? "You're bluffing. You have no proof that-"

Meeko pressed the rewind button, smirking at the reversed, speeding pictures floating past the screen before him. He stopped the whining gibberish of the camera and turned the volume up. The ghost of Griffin's voice, hot and venemous, leapt from the machine.

" ...reactivate the handcuffs until that heart of yours explodes."

Griffin reeled backwards, struck by a raw wave of shock that could almost be described as a physical assault. So he had forgotten to turn the camera off! Everything, from him cuffing Meeko to the post, to the cruel capture of the trio, was in that tape. So many illegal sights.

"I'll do whatever you want." He said breathlessly, eyes shining.

"First, tell me what badges you've earned in the gym challenge." It didn't strike him odd that a gym badge was the first priority on his mind. No, he needed another one, the Fog badge specifically, to calm that jittery feeling in his gut. He //_needed_// that badge, more for the interests of the three Js than himself. There was no time to visit Morty and dance with his phantoms.

Griffin pulled up his shirt to reveal the belt underneath. His career as a trainer had ended when he turned twenty-seven, and so gym badges now replaced the spots of his pokéballs. There were six, from what Meeko could see. He thought it extremely lucky that there was no gun holster to go along with the pins.

"Give me the Fog badge. Here, have another one of these." Meeko reached down his shirt and tore off the first Zephyr badge he came across. He tried grinning, but the numbness in his face hadn't departed just yet. "Fair trade, right?"

Silent, Griffin tossed the ghost-shaped piece of metal towards Meeko, and the young trainer did the same with his spare.

"Next, I want the key to these handcuffs." Another shimmering fragment flew through the air, which Meeko just barely caught in his unsteadiness. He inserted the key to unlatch the locks, and his whole face twitched at the pain when he forcefully removed the metal from his skin. The boy threw them a few yards into the woods. "Go put those on. Your ankles, if they're skinny enough."

Griffin did as he was ordered, insane eyes darting left, right, left again. Were there any reinforcements within earshot? There was just so much Meeko needed to be sure of, but given his condition he really could give a rat's ass. His head was rattled to the extreme, partly from the hand cuffs and partly from the high of how risky a position he was in.

He bent down to his knees and plucked the spheres from his belt so he could wrap the false leather around his pants. With that done, Meeko staggered over to his backpack. There were mild tranquilizer pills in there, Trainer Drugs he liked to call them. Only a certified trainer could purchase them (it isn't uncommon for a trainer to overstress themselves during battle), and after filling out a painfully thorough application. With insurance or without, six of these things cost about three months of weekly allowance savings. He fought briefly against the infant-proof cap, conqured it, and swallowed a pill dry. It stuck in his throat like a small bone, then dissolved enough for the muscles to push it down to his gut. God knew this was "a period of severe discomfort of the nerves". He didn't dare taking another recommended dose, feeling that if he was about to go rescue the guy and girls from about two dozen men, the least he could do was stay the fuck awake.

Wiping his numb lips clean of saliva, Meeko exhaled through his teeth. He put his backpack on, keeping a wary eye out for any deceiving moves the man currently cuffing himself in the woods might make. There was a small hole over his chest where the fabric had been torn loose by the now absent Zephyr badge, disturbing the pattern of black with a spot of bleached tan. He was sure color would come back to his skin when the TD kicked in.

"What do you propose to do, little man?" Griffin asked from the woods, hands shackled to the tree. He looked like some nature loving tree hugger.

Meeko took his hat off and shook all the detached, unwashed hairs loose. Judging by the amount of it he saw piled on the ground at his feet, Meeko assumed he looked like a cancer patient in the early stages of chemotherapy. He could no longer feel the ends brushing lightly across the back of his neck. The hat would stay on until he got to the nearest barber.

Clipping the pokéballs to his belt with confident fingers (thank you TD, you were worth seven bucks per pill), Meeko turned in the direction where those sick, heartless mother fuckers had taken his friends. His pace quickened as the drug enriched his blood. He knew he might get captured by these men, and then killed in secret by others, but to die atoning for his betrayal... It would ease his troubled soul to know that he'd tried. He wanted to die knowing that the three he'd grown so attached to, the three who'd gotten past his coldness and made him cry for the first time in years, would forgive him. That wouldn't make dying any less painful...

But it sure as hell would make it easier.


	24. Seeing Red, Feeling White

Previously, on The Changlings... _Let's see... The trio get captured(butterfly net captured) by the lab creeps from New Bark Town, and Meeko tries desperately to free himself and get them back. He gets loose in the end, and is slowly coming to the rescue._

Currently Injured: Meeko, suffering from a major shock treatment, burns on his wrist, and the effects of a mild tranquilizer pill. Status is Moderate Discomfort. Joe, Jill, and Jade suffering from major shock treatments. Status is Unknown.

Author's Note: I'm getting closer and closer to the end of this story... Lemme just say to all my reviewers: you all rock on so many levels! Those of you who faithfully reviewed every time I submitted a chapter... man, you're one of the main reasons why I kept up this silly story when I'm way beyond the age limit. XP There's also a valued reviewer I think I owe an apology to, if she still reads this fanfic. PinkParkaGirl, I'm so sorry I was such a jerk in reply to your critique way back when I first started! They really were important suggestions, and I know now you were just trying to make this story better by pointing out things other readers either didn't catch or didn't have the heart to point out. I was being over sensitive. Rock on my readers, and enjoy the last few chapters of The Changlings!!!

P.S I know it's a little late in the game, but could you guys give me your opinion on my average chapter lengths? Too long, too short, or is it just fine how it is? Just curious.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four: Seeing Red, Feeling White**

There were no groggy 'ugh, where am I?'s and 'how did I get here?'s after I woke up. I had some idea of the situation. That type of unconsciousness was unstable; I'd been a helpless fish it would jerk awake, and then reel back to the dark waters of nothing. Voices could still reach me beneath the unfriendly surface, and I'd understood them. We were in cages, with me on top and the stronger of us three on the bottom. The three cells were inside a large wooden crate. The truck that would take us back to square one for life had yet to arrive.

Cage size wasn't an issue here. Standing up straight disturbed the tips of my ears, and only when they were pricked forward. It would take two more of me lined up side by side to make the spacious the uncomfortable. However, a roomy cage couldn't shake away the horrific feeling that I'd been hurt. It sat beneath my knowledge like a splinter, out of reach and unpersuasive no matter how much probing was inflicted.

"Jade? Jade, what's the matter?" Joe's voice called from the floor of my cage. A clawed hand reached up in between the bar, and I stumbled forward to grasp it before the comfort withdrew. Both his and my grasp shook.

"I don't know." I answered truthfully, fingers squeezing tighter. "I just... I feel like I'm hurt forever. Deaf or something." No, it was even worse than that: I felt like I was dead.

"The soreness doesn't last that long. Now isn't the time to be overly dramatic." Jill stated sourly. "Besides, those shocks shouldn't have hurt you as much."

"They did more than that!" My shouting voice warbled into the choked sob a child may make when trying to hold in a fit of tears. I forced the breath to come in through my nose. Gradually, the clamp around my throat eased. "I-I just don't know what it is yet."

"Then we'll deal with that later." I heard a clamor to my right, where Jill was rattling away at the lock of her cage. It was then that I realized if anyone would make a great leader in this leaderless trio, Jill was the best candidate.

Instead of inspecting my own lock, a gesture that would only waste my time and energy, I sat huddled on my knees. My hands curled tight around Joe's fingers, as if they believed they would escape fear by constricting it away.

"...what'll we do if they...they succeed?" Joe said, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to bring up the phrase 'back to the lab' if he could help it.

It scared me how serious I sounded when I said this: "I'll kill myself." Another tight squeeze of the fingers that never seemed to get cold.

How wouldn't be a problem. If I was too scared to tear out my wrist (or just to be creative), I'd rip out my fur and choke on it. The lab geeks couldn't keep me in a cage for life and expect me to be content about it.

"Easy, Jade. Don't go suicidal on us." Jill soothed dryly, half joking. "When they come to put us in the truck, we won't be unconscious this time. We'll make them take home lifeless bodies if we have to."

"Yeah..." I murmured, grinning in spite of how wretched I felt inside. "Yeah, I'll**_ kill them _**before they touch me again. We're gonna fight this time!"

Joe pulled his hand away from mine, sensing that my blood was up and none too keen of letting me tighten my fingers any further.

"We'll teach them not to mess with people from our universe, alright Joe? Jade?"

Jill brandished her vines, their quivering shapes lurching backward like cobras an instant before striking. Less enthusiastic Joe flexed his claws, scratching out the two day old blood of Blaze underneath.

"Sure." He said, indifference in his tone.

"Jade?"

"Shut up."

"What?" Joe asked, looking up at the ceiling of his cage.

"Shut up! Listen. Don't you hear that?" Of course they didn't. Their ears were so dead and useless you couldn't even see them. "I hear voices."

That statement sent the collar of fur along my neck on edge, as well as the fur on my shoulder blades. Without even realizing it, my upper body dropped low while the other half tipped skyward. The voices outside esculated until they were easily in the threshold of sound to the duo underfoot.

"Who-?"

"Shh!" It came to a point where I could distinguish the words, but every other noise distracted me from plucking what I wanted to hear away from the rest. By the time the hushed whispers below me quieted, there were fast approaching footsteps advancing on the crate. A fearful growl sparked in my throat. "Time to at-"

The lock outside unhinged before I could get the rest of the sentence out. Air circulation in the cages slowed; the breath was hackled to our lungs. The door arched open, flooding in the afternoon sunlight. We flinched away from its touch and readied for our ditch effort assault.

"Wait! Don't attack me!" The figure shouted hoarsely, arms held up in defense. I could have identified him by smell if he hadn't ranked so harshly of blood.

Joe would have recognized that voice from anywhere, whether it was worn down by throat exhaustion or not. "Meeko!" He shouted, laughing in disbelief as he did.

I unsquinted my eyes, face turned slightly to spare myself of the sun blindness. At first I thought he'd turned into a ghost, taking the form of how he looked when he died. Or'd been murdered. Blood crusted all over his nose down, some of it pooling inside his ears. A fleshless bracelet looped around his left wrist. His hair had thinned somehow (I observed this even with the appearance of his hat), and it stopped about four inches short from its previous shoulder length. Given the way his eyes sank so deeply in, I could see the shape of his bony eye sockets.

The bloodied face of our former friend walked up to our cages, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being pursued. There was a knife in his hand, and how he managed to obtain one of these was beyond my range of interest. He stabbed at the keyhole of the padlock in each of our cages and opened the doors. It wasn't much different from the escape he assisted us in when we'd first met at the lab. I hoped it would turn out just as successful.

"No time to talk right now. Damion and the others- they're fighting them." Meeko said hurriedly, sparing another glance out at freedom. I jumped down from my cage, ears pricked forward to detect approaching danger. Sure, there was a lot of it around, but what the trainer claimed was true: humans screamed in panic while pokémon screamed in anger.

Panic in our eyes, we ran out into the forest.

This really was just like our first escape. Meeko, not one famous for intricate ideas, had constructed a plan about as sturdy as a sand castle of mud. Last time Adrian's larceny had proved to be the best distraction we could have asked for, but what would save us now? We would have to depend on the dull wit of this boy, and pray that his friends' loyalty seeded beyond the weeds of fear.

I'll admit that the three of us moved through the forest at the lagging pace of a human in sprint, a punishment by our muscles for putting them through such tortures. Meeko's gait, however, was unpredictable: he could match our speed without complaint at one moment, then sluggishly fall behind the next. His eyes were the distant, dying embers of an abandoned camp fire. I wasn't sure I could trust Meeko's aim with a gun, if given such a decision.

"Where are we going?" Joe panted, running beside me with an odd, four legged grace. He used to walk so awkwardly on those legs...

"Save your breath." Jill grunted from up ahead of us. She, like Joe, was already feeling strain in her lungs.

Meeko was growing increasingly lethargic, and he must have been aware of it. Still running, he slithered out of his backpack arms and slung the pack in front of his chest. He unzipped it far too fast, breaking the left zipper holding the bag together, but took no notice of this. After some rummaging, he pulled out bottled mineral bottle, which brandished a familiar brand name and bottle design I thought was called Aquafina. I'd be fascinate about that later.

The boy swung the backpack over his shoulders again, unscrewed the cap, and threw it to the ground. He took his hat off before dumping the entire liter over his head and face. The plastic bottle faced the same fate its cap had. His eyes sparked to life as the coldness hit, and the dried blood turned into a smearable, neon red liquid on his cheeks. Had he been pegged by a tranquilizer before coming to our rescue?

For now Meeko kept up with us, strings of surviving, greasy bangs dangling over his face. I wasn't ashamed (in my thoughts, at least) to admit that he looked fairly badass and handsome right now; hair, blood, sweat, and mineral water pooled down a face that grimaced as he fought with the drowsiness pumping under his skin and the gradual burning of lungs blazing in his chest.

My ears averted their attention to whatever was the loudest unexplained noise, powered by instinct and nothing else. The far off sounds they caught in their lobes were like dying echoes, footsteps and nervous self-talk mostly. My unspoken job was to point out any danger in our group, and so far I was doing a crappy job of it. If one wanted to play the blame game for that mugging fiasco, I'd be the first victim. So it was time to test these fine tuned satellites for once and be more than just the burden of the quad.

Minutes later, I heard rapid footsteps swarming at us from up ahead. They had the purposeful, running-yet-not-running pace of someone who's absolutely sure a plan's going to turn out like they predicted. It was time to change that. My blood soared higher than it had since day one of this universal abduction.

"Stop! Someone's coming!" I shouted, peering ahead of the trees. I couldn't trust my eyes enough to say he or she was right on top of us. Sound was tricky that way when everything came at you in the same volume.

Blinking the sleep away, Meeko unclipped and released the only remaining pokémon on his team. Iggy, his togepie, emerged from its shell and yawned happily.

"It won't help us." I growled ruefully, eyes still facing the threat. There was still its metronome attack that could save us all, but how anticlimatic is that?

Meeko sensed my sardonic tone and chose to ignore it. "Tell him he has to fight soon. I don't want him off guard."

Would the infant even understand? Iggy might have hatched earlier than us and still be unable to process the unified language of our species. His sleepy gray eyes showed a dull amazement and vacantness at the current surroundings.

"Iggy?" He looked at me when I said his name, and I felt a stirring of hope. Would he be intelligent enough to help us? "Iggy, there's going to be a battle. You understand? You have to get ready to fight."

The hatchling smiled at me and cooed a reply. He was old enough to know the basic idea of forming words, just not the words themselves. Or most of their meanings. I might as well have told a two year old to go change his own diaper.

"He's actually pretty strong. It just takes too long for him to realize he's fighting." Meeko explained softly, focusing his eyes on a shadow deeper in the trees. Joe saw it as well, and he got in that defensive chin low, ass high pose.

"You should have stayed behind like a good little boy." The shadow hissed, its voice lovely and feminine. She walked forward, one hand on her hip, the other balancing a miniature ball on its manicured tips. Her unaturally blonde hair was up in a tight ponytail, littered with the grit of the forest. The lipstick she wore made the skin they blanketed thin and fleshy, yet welcoming to a man's desires. "We were thinking of letting you go unharmed."

Figures. Out of the entire group of creeps, the murderous female had to be the one who crossed paths with us.

"Like it would matter. Do you think I'd be able to live with myself, knowing what I did?" He said lowly, counting the pokéballs she'd latched onto her pants. Including the one perched on her fingers, he spotted six. A whole team. Following his gaze, she uttered a spout of twittery, bird-like laughter.

"Yes, I'm a trainer. And I'm also a killer." The woman said slyly. In a single, fluid motion, she crossed her arms over her hips and unclipped the remaining five. With expert fingers (a trait Meeko could have bragged about until now), she pressed the enlargement buttons and threw them to the ground before their size was too much for her hands.

From the pokéballs birthed a bright radiance, and from the radiance birthed our attackers. They stood their ground as basic and unevolved, but bore the same dangerous faces of their trainer. There were two birds I'd have been fine without meeting in battle again- a pidgey and a spearow. Another one was a meowth, scrawny in body and carrying with it the frightening grace of felines. In the rest of her party she held the three starter pokémon of Kanto. It was hardly surprising when you looked at her career as a lab employee.

"The boy!" She shouted as she backed away from the messiness of battle. It was the only warning we had.

Both the birds and the meowth slipped by with a speed that hardly gave us time to flinch. They launched themselves at Meeko, claws clashing with fabric and skin. He gave a cry of outrage, swinging his arms out. The slower opponents stood blocked by their lesser counterparts. Iggy watched the tension warily, wondering whether or not his trainer was weeping or laughing. It was so hard to tell.

"Move." The bulbasaur rasped, withdrawing its vines. Jill did the same, grinning and ready to go toe-to-toe with the creature.

"No, not against him." I muttered through my teeth. "The squi-"

I saw the squirtle charging at me by the end of the first sentence, but the message hadn't traveled fast enough up the stairs to give me any chance of dodging. Its tough shell pinned me to the ground, forcing out breath and spit not yet swallowed. I snarled in breathless silence, desperately clawing away at the plates. They slid across the surface as if it were polished glass.

Taking this as a cue, the bulbasaur lashed its vines out at Joe. They formed a loop around Joe's shoulder to the hip opposite, tightening fierce enough to force the boy to his knees before he could ignite a single spark. He didn't dare make a move to free himself; one sudden movement could mean the end of his ribs. A scream wrestled in his throat.

Jill reacted faster than either of us had, whipping her vines out to constrict a charmander of her own. I'm sure if I were watching they would've been green blurs to my eyes, and yet her foe caught them in mid air as if moving in slow motion. The charmander blew fire on them, holding a steady grip to make sure Jill couldn't escape his grasp. She scrambled about helplessly as the fire ate away at the vines, a fish snagged by a fisherman's hook. Burns like these, burns she never imagined humans (or any other species, for that matter) could survive through, were too great an agony to hold screams captive in her chest. In the turmoil Iggy began wailing, waddling his way out of the battle scene.

"Call them off!" Meeko demanded, smashing his fist into the wing of the pidgey. It warbled a chirp of shock and plummeted down beside his feet, writhing feebly. The incessant slashing of his pant legs continued, the insides of them growing hot and wet. He felt the wound on his wrist torn fresh by the invading beak of the scavenger and busied himself with this new pain. How the hell had it known to attack that vulnerable injury? Could it smell the blood?

"Why, when the job is nearly done? I'd be more worried about my own well being at this point." The trainer retorted sneakily. "You're dealing with professionals, after all..."

//_They kill for a living? No wonder they have some brains!_// I thought, a menacing migrain lurking under the skull. The hot pain of it throbbed in thick, sickening waves to the beat of my heart. Not a real good sign. I'd only felt this one time before, so long ago... Soon I would see...red? No, all I could see were these dust bunnies of darkness. My lungs withered, unhealthily deprived.

_**//Shock it, shock it!// **_

//_What?_ _You again?_// That Voice screaming at me(so strange when it shows emotion...) but from an impossible distance. It was telling me, no, forcing me to summon that unexplainable electricity. I felt myself_it_ gathering the energy of anger, sadness, and fear until it swirled impatiently behind my cheeks. I braced for the leeching of power as it passed on from me to the attack, and from the attack to the foe...

Nothing happened. The squirtle was still crushing, those dark flowers blossoming larger and larger in my eyes.

I closed my eyes in defeat, relishing in the hotness my tears brought forth as they trickled through fur and into skin. So this was what I had felt before. When they'd struck me with that prod, they'd killed the one thing that had kept me alive so far: electricity.

In my head, the Voice screamed on.

The vines on Jill's back broke off and curled up on the ground, still burning. She felt them the way a spider missing a leg would, tried moving them and found that she still could even when they were detatched from her body. My sister howled at the sight, tears falling from her pale skin. The mane of buds on her neck adopted some of the sparks and burst into mini flames. Until they dissenigrated completely, she was the proud owner of a flaming necklace.

//_I'm crippled, it hurts so badly._// Although this was nowhere near as painful as the tasers, Jill wondered if the pain of limbs burning off could be compared to anything other than child birth. The charmander got on all fours and readied to pounce on her. How differently this one and Joe acted... It was almost like that Voice she heard in her head, the evil twin of Joe made into a hellish entity.

Was it her own voice conjuring this trick, or did she hear a faint noise... a scream possibly, from behind her eyes?

Joe saw the happenings from the corner of his eye for nearly three seconds before they blurred with tears. He blinked them free and turned his head away from Jill and me. These screams of Jill's, summoned by pain, were terrible to the ears. Like his older brother, he'd pictured Jill as the stronger, bolder version of me; to hear her at her weakest point terrified him.

The binds tightened, snapping a bone in several places somewhere near his shoulder. He widened his eyes in astonishment, with not even the strength to inhale for a scream bubbling in his throat. Shuddering, he went limp in the foe's grip, feet sliding out from under him. Joe, now on his stomach, cupped the mangled shoulder in the palm of his free arm. He felt himself falling deeper than just physically possible despite the burning wound he never thought he could sleep through. His opponent removed its organic killing tools, and made their way to the ever popular throat.

//_Meeko, please help us. I don't like it when this happens._// The boy thought calmly, eyelids drooping. He felt the vines brush against the side of his face, heard his human friend's irate cries escalate into panic. The vines formed a noose.

//**_Don't die, get away! Have mercy and move...your...FEET!_**// His hind legs twitched in response to a move Joe didn't wanted to make. It was that now-quiet Voice in his head, making one last ditch effort to get the body it was chained to away from Death's grasp. He tried to breathe, tugging weakly at the ropes cutting into his skin. The sleepier he felt, the louder his Voice screamed.

I pulled my hands away from the shell. Yes, it was time to see red.

//**_No!_**//

"What?" I lipped, for there was no air to make words with. My eyes opened halfway, waves of heat pulsing behind them. That Voice sounded as real as any voice outside my head, like a dream-question I would often answer before falling asleep. It pumped power into my body, a full blown slap which pushed away the overwhelming need to sleep. Instead of red, I saw white. Wait, scratch that... I //_felt_// the white, swimming through veins, capillaries, organs, every square inch of my failing body. The feelings were so hard to describe... The whiteness within was full and limitless, much like the way black is small and unwelcoming. On the surface, skin prickled in a peculiar, painless way that was neither enjoyable or horrible. It felt as if it were a sock getting pulled inside out, and I could do nothing to defy this theory because my skin was no longer visible. The white pooling inside hovered over fur and outer flesh.

Lost in this wonderfully unpleasent numbness, I wasn't aware of the changes taking place. The squirtle removed itself, fearing an attack from a foe it thought it'd killed. Its partners did the same, their own targets enveloped in the blinding radiance. One growled a curse word in a tongue only their sub-species could translate.

Jill rose from her stupor at once, noting the lack of pain prior to that strange feeling. Her sense of smell was fantastic, strong and exaggerated the way a magnifying glass enlarges sight. The subtle pouches beside her neck held their fried occupants again, and they too had grown in that period of bliss. She took in sunlight more effectively, the plants working their photosynthesis magic.

Joe and I sat up syncronized, blinking our eyes stupidly. I reached up to stroke the slender ears that now supplanted those awkward bits of cartilage. I still bore the hateful lab tag, despite a complete body change. My brief time as a handicap was up; the electricity in my cheeks rattled the roots of my molars, humming with impatience. Damnshitdamn, it was-

"Time to kill these bitches!" I shouted out the rest of my thought in a crazed snarl, eyes flicking from the squirtle, to the bulbasaur, to the charmander, and back again. In my frenzy I didn't even notice how my voice had matured to the normal pitch of a teenager, or that a growl rumbled with each word born.

Joe got to his feet, red scales catching whatever sunlight was able to seep through the trees. His size had nearly tripled (we didn't have to worry about someone opening doors for us anymore), as well as the power such a large body possessed along with it. He hissed at the creature that had recently destroyed his shoulder, licks of flame passing out through his lips. I could feel the heat of it from my spot five feet away.

"No fucking way." Meeko half laughed. The meowth and spearow, distracted by our light show, pondered what their next move should be. It was all the time their victim needed. He cupped both hands together, his left streaming blood from the opened wound on his wrist, and smashed them against the spearow's head ((Bird brained! shot)). At the same time, he whipped his uninjured foot into the meowth. The latter made a squalling shriek of pain and darted out of sight, while the other dropped down to give its bird friend the company of death.

I took this as my cue to attack, not that I actually needed one to do so. It hardly took any effort at all to shoot the electricity outward, and aim wasn't an issue; the bolts scattered in all directions I faced, killing plants and paralyzing the squirtle. A flurry of agitated dust obscured that section of the clearing.

Following suit, Jill unsheathed her new vines for the first time. The sheer strength of them rippled the strange combination of muscle and plant cells that lay hidden under their thick coils. She willed them forward, their paths unimaginably graceful. They found purchase earlier than she'd planned, her target being the charmander attempting to jump at its older brethren. To her sick delight, the overpowering vines found themselves wrapped around its neck, and the creature's spasmodic feet hovered a few inches from the ground. The positions of the fight had taken a cruel twist: this lowly basic now writhed at the mercy of a seemingly weak grass type.

Joe bent down on his front legs and leapt over Jill's vines, a wingless dragon in flight. He had the bulbasaur pinned by his claws before it could even utter a growl of concern.

//_C'mon, they're helpless! One less killer around here!_// I screamed inside, dancing on my toes. Just //_look_// at them..! Jill had it by the neck and Joe could carve out the thing's bulb like a scoop of Ben and Jerry's ice cream!

As if Jill could hear me, she issued her deadly attack. I didn't care much as to where the leaves came from as to how they'd been created. How could anything said to be alive pass so closely as a knife's decorated sister? And how so fast? They were swift enough to sever the air and force a whistled scream from the normally silent being.

The leaves, despite their deadly beauty, had horrific aim. One missed all together, and the other grazed its right side. The smooth injury inflicted was delayed in its heavy weeps of scarlet.

"Stop!" The bulbasaur hissed savagely, trying to wriggle out of Joe's grip.

In reply the charmeleon spat a series of sparks on the grass type's tender bulb, which quickly burst into tiny embers at the touch. Its struggles intensified, but he'd failed to make it scream. The trainer hustled into the battle clearing, pistol brandished.

"Make another move and these bullets tastes your blood." Her words were directed at us, the seemingly brainless animals, and we weren't crazy enough to defy the tip of a gun. Jill released her foe, and Joe slowly backed away from his own. She recalled her fainted pokémon, yet left the dead spearow untouched. The two remaining crept towards her and sat at her feet.

She paused for a deep yawn, which I thought was odd considering how aware and awake the rest of her appeared. Wiping her tears away, the woman wavered her gun between the three of us. "You're all coming with me. Humans, aliens, whatever you may be, you're much too valuable to lose."

Another yawn, this one accompanied by the proper, noisy sound effects. She shook her head in impatience, blinking unevenly, and averted her eyes to the bedraggled teenager. "You, on the other... other hand..."

Cocking the gun with her thumb (it took a few tries), the trainer gave the miserable sigh of a reluctant but obedient child. Then, muttering softly, she backed into the nearest tree, slid down the bark, and sagged her head. Her gun swayed in the hooks of her fingers for a couple seconds, and then clattered to the forest floor. Too bewildered to have a go at speech, I exchanged confused stares with Joe and Jill.

"She... she fell asleep?" Meeko said, unable to fully grasp it. Yes, those were snores he could hear. Yes, her breath did aquire a sort of muffled rhythm... but how the hell..?

Stepping out from the haven of bushes, Iggy reached up to wipe yawn-tears of his own away. The tips of his hands wore transparent gloves of red stained glass. Metronome had saved us in the end, using the highly effective yawn attack to do its job. In a way I was disappointed by the convenient turn of events. It was so anticlimactic..!

We spent little time recovering from our ordeal before moving on.

Meeko's team met up with us at individual times, ranging from the weakest of the "troops" to the strongest. Each had fled his or her fight when they felt the last strands of energy billowing from their exhausted mouths. Rowan, his only flyer, wasn't among our ranks when we made it out of the forest, and his only assumption was that a gunner with skill and luck had shot her. He didn't need to remind himself to grieve about this when they arrived at the town- the giref was already present, dulled only by the drugs of the pills and the blood pumping drug of his own body.

There were no other surprise visits ready to oppose us. Sure, we met up with other members of Griffin's pack, both murderous and ignorant, but in either small throngs or helplessly alone. No sounds escaped my ears, so encounters were few and bloodshed was even fewer.

When the end of the forest rushed up to meet us, so did Tin Tower. It dominated over Ecruteak the same way Ilex forest had to Azalea, casting a familiar yet constantly ominous shadow over the residents. The ghostly corpse of its sibling lay parallel to it, untouched after a devastating fire grandparents had seen through young eyes so long ago.

We drove towards the heart of the town-which wasn't a long walk at all- this town was only a few house clusters larged than Azalea-, our pace a steady speedwalk. Onlookers weren't shy of any puzzled stares at the bloody trainer and his pack of evolved, feral looking pokémon. The overprotective parents and pet owners urged their inferiors to leave. Wow, did we really look that scary? Or was all the attention on that sketchy fellow following us around?

At the center, Meeko staggered over to the nearest building and leaned his back against it. Exhaling slowly, he slid down the unpainted wall, head tilted sideways. His left hand and pantleg left behind puddles of blood.

"Pairdun me, sir..." A young man from the tense crowd spoke up, his voice thick with the town's local accent. Getting no response, he cleared his throat and took a step forward to try again. "Escuse me for prodden, but... Ya're not looken too fair. Mighteh limp ya gotcher self, and ye've taken the habit a bleeden on the ground."

Meeko sighed helplessly, his patience grating with the kind natured concern of this man. Eyes still locked to the ground (how could he look at the skies again and not feel guilt?), he said, "I'll be fine. I'm not staying here for long."

It was fortunate that Meeko's attention wasn't on the crowds' faces. A ripple of relief, some unseen force whose breath had been held during the tension, peppered across the group.

"Cain't say I bleave that, kyid. Now c'mon, we got a hospitail that cain checkya out..."

"//_Leave me alone._//" He snarled, shrugging his backpack loose. Movements irate and clumsy, he shuffled in his pack for something at the bottom. The crowd dissipated at once, fearing he would pull out a sort of firearm. When the last of their shadows scurried around the corner of a house, Meeko pulled his arm out empty handed. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall, waiting for his blood to go down.

We warily stood our ground at the safe distance of a yard or two. The house's shadow didn't reach us here, so the hypnotizing heat of the sun did what the cold didn't seem to be doing to Meeko. His heart still ran wild, mind wirling and eyes twitching from under his eyelids. This rescue shouldn't have scared him so much... Was this because Rowan got killed?

"Come on, guys." Jill growled, her voice unable to do otherwise. Yeah, the evolution was cool for the first ten minutes, but now that things were quieter, she could hear the Voice talking in her head. Its whispering was constant, maddening to who ever felt foolish enough to listen. She had a feeling that it had gone insane just before evolving.

Joe and I were just as eager to leave as she since we were suffering the same incessant mutterings. Seeing our movement, Meeko scowled his disapproval.

"Where are you going? Can't I rest for a bit?" He forced a thin smile and staggered to his feet. Hardly given a response, his frown deepened. "I'm serious, you three. Please, let me sit for a second."

I hissed under my breath, audible only to the pair walking on either side of me. Even with the addition of six inches, I was pathetically short in comparison to both of them.

"...guys?" He limped after us, the knot in his gut winding tighter. "...come on! I helped get you back!"

"We don't need you anymore." Jill said evenly. She didn't bother writing a translation. "If its okay with you two, I don't want him around."

"Took the words right out of my mouth." I replied, my voice tart.

Meeko sped up in his pace and reached out for Joe. "I helped you, Joe! I helped all of you!"

It took only the lightest touch of his fingertips on Joe's shoulder to set the boy off. He allowed his Voice to perform a brief take over, knowing quite well that such a task would only lead to regret. Joe(?) swerved on his right heel and slashed at Meeko's hand with a beastly snarl. Had the human not recoiled in time, several or all of his fingers would have been severed clean off.

Miss or no miss, it did the desired effect. Meeko ceased his pursuit and watched us continue the rest of our journey without him, wallowing in rejection. He didn't find it odd that our shadows nearly matched their owners in size, or that they molded into sinister looking phantoms resembling both human and animal.


	25. Portal Opened

Previously on The Changlings..._ It turns out that rescue from the lab gang wasn't enough for Meeko's redeemption. All three of the kids, newly evolved and savage-like, made it crystal clear that they didn't want Meeko to acompany them the rest of the way home. Betrayal cuts one deep, maybe a bit too literally in this chapter..._

Currently Injuried: Meeko, suffering from major shock treatment and... eh, you get it.

Author's Note: Reading the poorly written and constructed riddle, and the cliche riddled 'prophecy' made me flinch. XP I'd get rid of the first in this draft in a heartbeat if I could, and rename the second or SOMETHING. Oh, the terrors of old work. Go take a peak at your oldest work and have yourself a chuckle. As I was writing a certain flashbackish section in the chapter, I realized how fun it would have been to write it out as actual parts of past chapters. Oh well...

**Chapter Twenty Five: Portal Opened**

We didn't stay a trio for long. Meeko trailed along at a safe distance behind us, his gait the submissive shuffle of a wounded puppy. Joe's rejection stung him greater than he'd imagined, and couldn't help feeling like he was on the receiving end of betrayal's arrow. He'd always liked the way Joe was innocent enough both physically and mentally to push aside any obvious faults of his. Evolution changed all that, changed all three of the animals he'd called friends.

The boy was as persistent to stay around as we were to stay away. Numerous times Jill would strike him with her vines if he got too close, and I'd have pitched in a bit by shocking him had he just not been electrocuted. Yeah, we were pissed at Meeko, but not to the point of murdering the kid.

Nearing the incinerated tower, I teetered on the peak of doubt. The confidence I had in the threshold moments before capture had strangely vanished. Was this the right place? What would be our next step if it wasn't? One sleepless night of listening to the Voice is more than enough for one to ponder suicidal thoughts. I didn't think I could last another hour in this stronger body, much less a few weeks searching for additional options.

There was no longer a door to greet us at the entrance, most debris that blocked it pushed aside to satisfy many a trainer's curiosity. The acrid smell of soot pounced at our noses, reeking decay from the crumbling walls. There were bits of a second floor present but no roof, a blessing to explorers who didn't appeal much to the idea of sudden cave ins. A sign warned that we were entering at our own risk, and Ecruteak wasn't liable for any injuries inflicted inside or around the building. It sounded to me like this was a popular thrill ride.

We walked in gingerly, enjoying the fragile touch of ash underfoot. The floor, unnaturally paved by the layers of stories that were flatted atop it, stood several feet higher than the ground outside. No trainers lurked at the uneventful section harboring the entrance. In the center of the building's base were the blackened remains of a wooden pillar, a mighty spit of charcoal against mellow gray. Even in death it bore the title of leadership.

I looked up at the second floor through the gaping hole in the center of the ceiling and spotted the missing humans. Personally, I couldn't see why anyone else would actually explore this limited building, much less find any healthy pokémon living inside it.

A sound and movement to our left, gentle to the ears and subtle to the eyes, told me that a small portion of the ceiling was crumbling. None of us were close enough to worry, so I gave no warning of it. The soot sprinkled down from the building's new wound like camouflaged flakes of dandruff. Less than a second later the floor above gave way silently, raining dead wood, ash, and the shocked form of a trainer. He fell as soundless as the ceiling had, too amazed to cry out, and crashed clean through the floor we rested on, continuing down to the unknown caverns below the building. The only other witness to the human himself had been Meeko, Jill and Joe's senses not keen enough to allow them the full cycle of the event.

Joe titled his head sideways in confusion. "Wha-"

"A human. These floors break." I said, turning away from the hole. He had the wit and the strength enough, so let him play Survivor for a change! **_He could be dead for all I care!_**

The word a turn off for both of them, they wilted their concern. Meeko didn't bother protesting against our coldness.

"Where are we going?" Jill didn't care for subtlety on this issue. Her plants, slightly dehydrated before entering, itched in anger at the dry air. "I doubt the legendaries are waiting for us up there."

"If we go up there," I replied in a bitter voice, and pointed to the hole. "We end up down there."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Ask me if I give a rat's ass, Jill."

"Fine! Tell me, do you give a rat's ass whether or not this is the right place!?"

"Just shut /_up_/! I don't have all the answers for you, so stop asking me."

"Who said I ever asked you?"

Joe stamped his foot for attention, his snarling voice overpowering ours. "Will you both stop being so damn difficult?" He yelled angrily. "I know it's hard to be nice now, but don't start fighting when we're so close. You keep this up and you'll turn into... into Marc."

"She started it." And from Jill's abashed words did the altercation die.

There wasn't much to see on the first floor for our wanderings across it to be considered 'searching'. It reminded me of the pointless way one loitered in front of the fridge, unable to decide whether they were hungry enough to deal with the guilt of excessive eating. We huddled as a group in one corner, scanning the room for anything suspicious. Meeko was preoccupied by the pillar's skeleton, smearing his hands black in a fruitless attempt to dust the soot off.

"What are we looking for? I really think we should go upstairs." Jill commented, straining to keep her voice pleasant.

"No, that's not the place..." Joe murmured a worried protest. "Too many trainers go up there. We're looking for something that's hidden where no one would think to look."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Well... I don't. I'm just trying to think like a legendary."

"Hey! I think I found something!" Meeko called us over to the pillar, our curiosity temporarily bypassing our grudge.

He'd wiped certain spots of the pillar clean of soot, so that its skin matched the rest of the tones of the building. On the clean spots were four, half dollar sized indentations, preserved by a powerful force strong enough to repel flames. Above it were the words 'riddle, please', created by the soot caught in rifts the letters made. I couldn't imagine spotting that myself. //_Ever_//.

"How did you-? Never mind." Jill waved a vine dismissively and looked up at the command. "What riddle's it talking about?"

"I...don't remember." I admitted, shrugging. "But it's on the tip of my tongue. I swear I know what it's asking..."

A riddle? Sounded just like any other annoying obstacle we innocent protagonists had to conquer. Meeko waited patiently for a reaction to the discovery and, seeing none, thought it safe to add his own comment.

"What about the dream? The one that Jade had."

"Huh?" It was hard to recall dreams I hadn't written on paper. I wordlessly prodded for more.

"Um... Oh! It was right before the center caught fire, and after you saved your friend from getting poisoned to death. You said the mutant legendary back at the forest was in it."

That last bit broke the dam of stubborn forgetfulness. A lot much had happened since then, and I'd started to forget all about it ((if you're like Jade, look at the beginning of chpt. 9)). In it Cel had given me a riddle, and showed me visions from the past and the future (the last of this telling me Damion would kill Meeko and Joe). I obviously couldn't remember the riddle word for word now though, and kicked myself for not making an effort to memorize it.

"Try touching it." Meeko suggested, earning himself a classic 'what do you know?' glare. He continued with a rough edge in his voice, clearly getting sick of this unfair mistreatment. "See what it says? 'Riddle, please'. It looks more like a button one of you guys should press, not an instruction."

Under normal circumstances that would be the last option I'd take just out of pure hard-headedness, but this was the recovery of our bodies, here! Joe did the honors of pushing the proclaimed button, proud to show off his dominant height. The lost voice of Cel slithered into the sound barrier like the lonely whisper of a wondering spirit:

//"_I had a feeling you would forget this riddle, Jade. You thought the tragic future was more important than the present."_//

"Yeah, yeah, get on with it!"

"Shut up, Jade!"

//_"-ere it is. __'The gentle whisper of a mother that soothes the land to sleep. A place where great colonies are born, and everyone is a brother. One shy of difference, land of beige rolling mounds. When the sky's blanket is the Earth's, sending shafts of chills.' There was also the scripture you read in the Ruins of Alph, which said '...it is these four keys that will open the door, the four keys that will release the gift and give back to those that have lost. The un-wholes need only the riddle's answer to find the keys and make themselves whole once again. A once loyal friend will turn on his master, and more than one heart will be flayed.' Keep this in mind when you all proceed, and there is a chance you may escape this black future yet."_

"Brilliant. Just what we need!" Jill hissed in dismay. She had no idea what the riddle could mean, and even if we solved it, there was still the matter of finding these keys. The dirtiest of curses were armed at her lips and ready to assault the air.

"No, no. We just need to think. We might have them already" Joe pointed out, trying to remember the riddle. This would be a challenge for him, since he found it easier to solve problems when it was presented in writing. He also found it easier when a disembodied voice wasn't muttering in the back of his head.

Each of us fell silent in our pondering of the beginning of the riddle; it was the only part we committed to memory. I shook my head sideways to rid myself of the noise, as if the chattering voice was merely a trickle of water stuck in my ears. The mad voice-entity only grew louder.

//**_I know the secret of the universe. Want to listen in? In the end we all die. There is no Heaven and Hell. Our worlds lacks the fingerprints of God. Sooner or later it will collapse into nothingness. You're doomed to-_**//

"I can't think right now, Joe." I spoke in a voice barely beneath the volume of a shout.

"Try."

"No!" Hardly fazed, he stared down at my defiance. A mild look of brutality lingered on his face, brought out only by the savage body change. "I mean, it's easy for you to say. I bet you can't even hear your Voice."

"You just keep thinking that, then." He replied, and flashed a sad smile. Seeing the puzzle pieces of needle fangs hidden behind it ruined the effect.

Suddenly, a clone of Cel's voice bubbled into our developing conversation. "//_The gentle whisper of a mother that soothes the land to sleep._//"

Meeko, who had reached out to stroke the first indentation on the wall, pulled back sharply. He only heard the sharp whisper of Cel's tongue, and wasn't sure if the subtle button he'd pressed would blow the tower to bits or some other crisis.

"That makes our life easier. Try the next one." Jill suggested, automatically discarding the first part. Joe did as he was told.

"//_A place where great colonies are born, and everyone is a brother._//"

//_That doesn't make sense._// I thought, irritated. //_How can you make a colony of people if they all have the same mom?_//

I voiced this to Joe and Jill, while Meeko stood left out behind us.

"Maybe its talking about a kingdom. You know, kings and queens ruling over 'their people' and stuff." Joe said, but judging by his unconfident tone even he knew that was a stretch. Beside, how could you fit anything kingdom related into that small an indent?

"I don't think it's talking about people. Humans don't do that kind of thing." Jill pointed out, eyes scanning the soot floor for answers. "Sounds animal to me. Like, ants."

"And bees." Joe added in. She was on to something, here... "But what do we put in it? Nothing like those can fit in there in this universe."

"It's not talking about the thing. It wants the place. So we have an anthill and a bee hive. A hill and a hive." I nodded briskly, grating my teeth in frustration. "Anyone got a spare hive we can stuff into the wall? No? Gee, that's a bummer. ... What are you doing, Joe?"

He was on his knees in front of Meeko, scribbling out our brainstorm to him. Among the mess he'd written out and circled 'hive' and 'hill' with a large question mark adjourning both. Ignorant to the riddle, the human could only rely on the fragmented notes of the boy kneeling in front of him. Meeko looked up at the four holes, puzzled. I showed him an impatient example by grabbing a handful of ash and throwing it against a hole, followed by a gentle rap on the door.

"...what? You need a hive to open the door?" He asked, genuinely confused. All three of us let out a short moan.

"I thought maybe he could help us." Joe shrugged, turning away from his failure.

"You just keep thinking that, then." I told him in a mocking voice. Wow, why did I have such a sour attitude?

Although none of us paid attention to him, the said failure had pulled the collar of his shirt out, as if something interesting had fallen down there. By the look of enlightenment on his face he might have discovered the cure for cancer. "I think I know what it's talking about! Hang on a second."

"Meeko, I pretty sure-" Before I could finish a smart ass remark involving certain body parts beneath his shirt, he'd torn the source of his excitement loose for us to see. In his hand was the Hive badge, strands of his shirt dangling down from the pin they were entangled in. He strode over to the indents, plucking away the remains of the clothing. When he brought the badge up close to the hole, it appeared to be a perfect fit. Joe crowed his delight.

"That's the answer! Hive! And the other ones..."

"Zephyr, plain, and fog." I finished, pushing the back of Meeko's ankle in a wordless, encouraging prod. All three of us overlooked the fact that he had yet to win the fog badge, ignorant to his trade with Griffin.

"Meeko pulled out his latest edition, the fog badge, and pushed it into the fourth hole. At first it seemed the badge wouldn't take and simply fall to the ground, but moments after contact a force from behind the wall sucked it backwards out of sight. Meeko gave a comical yelp of dismay at the same instant we did of joy.

"You have to be //_kidding_// me!" He yelled, more out of his soon-to-be loss for the first three badges. Being rid of his ill gotten bartering reward was a relief- to lose the ones he'd actually earned made his stomach coil.

It didn't matter if he wanted to give the badges. Those pins were going inside the pillar, their owner awake and aware or not.

Fortunately for the drugged teenager, his debate over the price of our bodies was a short one. He moaned in his head as each badge was absorbed into the magically enhanced wood.

//_"Thanks for the sacrifice, human. The portal can be used now."_//

Cel's gratitude was the warning of what was to come. There came a draft along the back of my neck, strong enough to drag the unprotected yellow hairs with its current. I vaguely recalled something similar happening like this before, and found myself expecting the floor beneath us to collapse. Close, but not quite.

There was suddenly this awful feeling radiating from the pillar. It came in the ebb and flow of waves. From that moment on all trainers who entered would subconsciously steer away from the tower's mascot. Nothing noticeable to the eye had changed about the pillar's remains, but we could all sense it. It was like standing over the edge of an abyss, or looking up at the sky from a high, narrow perch. Danger, possibly even death, lay waiting beyond this invisible portal. And it reeled us in.

All four of us felt its pull and resisted it instinctively. There was nothing painful or mentally taxing about it, more like a fishhook caught in some secret place in our chests. I was the first to succumb, such pitiful weight my own worst enemy, and was jerked forward into the pillar with a startled gasp. Seeing this, Jill launched herself in after me, calling my name in a terrified wail. Joe didn't trust himself to try turning around, yet attempted it anyway. When his left side faced the pillar it sucked him in, his scream cut off at the invisible portal's touch. Meeko believed that this was the place that would transport him to our universe, and became frantic in his struggle. Such movements made his vulnerability worse, aggravating his drugged up senses and forcing the backpack from his shoulders. He felt himself begin to leave.

"No, I'm not supposed to go. Please, please, I'm human, don't-"

The tug became a gale, dragging in boy, soot, and footprints he and his trio had left behind.

oo00oo

"No, I'm not supposed to go. Please, please, I'm human, don't-"

The teenager watched Meeko phase into the pillar, stoic in face and reeling senselessly in his mind. His old rival winked out of existence, swallowed up by nothing in the guise of a burned pillar. The only item left was his backpack. Adrian himself hadn't seen anything as unbelievable before. Painful yes, but never a sight that could question his sanity. Or stir up so much curiosity.

He timidly stepped into the tower, fingers on what he guessed was Blaze's pokéball. Due to certain peculiar circumstances, he didn't exactly feel safe in the presence of Waterburn just yet, and relied on the weaker of the two for protection should he require it.

After his degrading exit from Ilex forest, had Adrian returned to the field where Waterburn had evolved in hopes of training the beast against the tricky arts of psychic and dark pokémon. Upon release of his pokémon, he'd soon realized that something had gone awry. Whatever that umbreon did to Waterburn had turned him feral, far beyond Adrian's liking. There was also another unsettling factor: less than twenty-four hours after his first evolution, he'd evolved again. It took at least several months for a croconaw to become a feraligator, so this alone tempted Adrian to recall him.

Despite his wariness, Adrian had attempted to go about with his training. He'd ushered Waterburn to his side, and the creature'd obeyed a tad too literally. The animal had bowled him over, overpowering Adrian for five terrifying seconds before he'd managed to return his unpredictable weapon into its ball. Adrian knew he'd turned out lucky as he inspected the injuries along his upper frame.

Adrian had a particularly nasty slash under his left eye, the only wound that was still causing him the most pain and worry. He could picture how it occurred based on its shape: the last of Waterburn's five, widely spaced claws caught in the lobe of his ear, tore it, continued along his face, and ended at the nostril, also torn. Then he'd been able to recall him. It had already clotted and healed over in the form of a thin scab.

Refusing to seek medical help for wounds the body could heal just fine, Adrian had ventured and conquered Ilex forest. His stay in the city, similar to Meeko's, had been brief. He only met trouble at the entrance to the route, where a pair of guards had claimed the road to Ecruteak was unsafe and therefore blocked off to all travelers. They would wake up hours later tossed into the forest a few yards from their post, licking burn wounds they'd never recalled obtaining.

Towards the last half mile Adrian learned of the illegal chain of events lurking about in the road, and that they involved his rival. He'd encountered a man handcuffed to a tree, and thought it sensible to get some information from him. The handcuffs were unique, and provided the teenager with a rather painful lie detector. If he thought what the man spouted was false, he would aggravate the pressure nodes.

The man had said he was an important employee from the lab in New Bark Town, and offered proof of such claims when Adrian asked. Adrian had explained to him that he was the pokémon thief several days ago, and demanded he get full pardon for the theft if he could bring back some important footage Meeko had stolen in his escape. Eluding the authorities was amazingly simple, but tiring.

He never ended up releasing the man upon his hasty leave.

The only obstacle separating him from a cleaner police record was his fear of the hurricane force radiating from Burned Tower's pillar. Where ever Meeko had been whisked away to, the boy didn't seem quite pleased about it. Adrian was willing to trust the victim's instincts prior to his sudden disappearance and decided that going near the pillar was a very, very bad idea.

Unlike his smarter counterpart, Adrian had no backpack with which to store any type of rope. The only item he had that could be used as a home made noose was his belt, currently occupied by a half dozen shrunken pokéballs . He unhooked it and slowly pulled the belt from his pants, cupping his free hand below the pokéballs that broke away from the Velcro attachments as he tugged. He'd got to the fourth pokéball when a section of his palm accidentally activated the size adjustor of one of them. As a result of the overwhelming size change several others were pressed, and in Adrian's mounting frustration he dropped them to gather in a chaotic mess.

The net ball, Waterburn's prison, had been one of the pokéballs enlarged to its true size, and in its momentum of being dropped began rolling towards the pillar. Adrian didn't act for a few seconds more, unsure if the ball was being influenced by the pillar's current. When it showed no signs of slowing down Adrian lunged forward to retrieve it, crawling on his knees. He didn't particularly care if his pokémon was lost to the portal, but some wickedly greedy part of him drove the outlaw out to save it. Maybe he could sell it to a poor sap back in Goldenrod, or maybe-

Whatever Adrian had planned to do with Waterburn would never reach beyond the confides of his thievish mind, because at the moment his fingers clasped over the ball he unintentionally pressed the release button. It split in two with a burst of white, scorning what ever grasp Adrian had thought secure. Waterburn came into being, casting a shadow that stretched all the way across to the wall opposite the pillar. He hissed thickly at the vulnerable human, his gray eyes terrifyingly intelligent. Adrian looked up at Waterburn, seeing all the abuse he'd inflicted upon the creature reflected in them. On his knees, feeling the throb of a pulse in his throat, master attempted to tame slave.

"Waterburn. I want you to get the backpack behind you."

Waterburn parted his jaws so he could taste the boy's fear, and turned a brutish head over his shoulder to look at said backpack. He would have laughed and spat insults at the red head if he could only recall how.

"Do you see it, Waterburn? I want you to get it for me." The human spoke slow enough for Waterburn to translate the message. He knew their tongue well, somehow, and could pick at every bit of emotion buried beneath the words. There was fear, delicious and sour, as well as unconfident authority.

Waterburn turned back to Adrian, who in his fear had made no attempt to leave the spot. Waterburn felt no intimidation towards this pale, fangless beast, even though his past screamed for him to have it. He hissed again, relishing in the maddening waves of flavor the human gave off when he did so.

"Get me the backpack, Waterburn! I mean it!" He snarled a little too fast for Waterburn to understand it word for word, but his panicked anger was enough for the pokémon to understand the command. Waterburn, curious to see the secrets inside the backpack, dragged his feet backwards to get it. His eyes never left Adrian's, sardonic, daring, unfeeling. The only time his concentration on his prey lapsed was when he'd reached his arm back to grope for the backpack. A strong wind he hadn't felt before tugged his arm backwards rather painfully, jarring into the pack. Instinctively his claws dug into it, and with some effort he pulled the ugly thing away from the current.

Seeing this done, Adrian scrambled to his feet and dove himself at the feraligator, emitting a battle cry in his hysterical fury. Quick as a cobra (arbok, his head corrected), Waterburn threw the backpack to the side and thrust his claws into the oncoming attacker. They found purchase in both Adrian's shoulder's, which summoned a surprisingly small amount of blood at first. His battle cry evolved into the thin wail of gravely stricken prey, but still the human pushed towards Waterburn. The creature hadn't expected this, and was pushed back several steps in his surprise. The current got a steady hold, tearing Waterburn's claws loose with a torrent of blood and a scream that alerted the trainers in the upper floor. He was pulled back into the portal, helpless, eyes rolling in their beast-like rage at the indignity of being tricked by a human fit to be called a hatchling. Adrian, his scream dying with the lack of breath, managed to stagger backwards so as to not get sucked in with his rebellious pokémon. He crossed his arms over his chest to press against the double injuries, bent over because the pain was pushing him to the ground. The blood seeped through his fingers and dribbled down to soak into the grime of soot. Waterburn disappeared into the portal mid snarl, just as the trainers reached the foot of the stairs. The first of them, spotting Adrian collapse to his knees and then flat on his face, swore loudly.

"Well, quit gawkin' laddie!" An older man pushed her forward and rushed to Adrian's side. Amazingly, the boy was still conscious, warmed by the coat of blood pooling beneath him. He saw it seeping near Adrian's neck and thought the worst.

"My backpack. And pokémon." The outlaw rasped weakly, face twisted in an agonized grimace. He shouldn't have tried moving his arms...

"Yes, yes, son, we'll make sure to get them. What attacked you? Stay awake now."

Adrian forced his lids to part, earning him a wave of vertigo to go along with the pain. The world from his eyes looked like it had been dunked in a bottle of navy ink, and began streaming out of sight right before his eyes. He looked up at the pillar, and was relieved at what he saw: nothing.

"It's gone now." He answered, and didn't even feel the side of his face lightly collide with the floor.


	26. Heart Flayed

**Chapter Twenty Six: Heart Flayed**

The foolishly hopeful part of me said that the next time I opened my eyes there wouldn't be any fur coating the lids. I knew better than that. That riddle was only the first step in our body reclamation. Two hearts still had to be put to risk before the //_real_// portal could be opened. Considering the fact that Adrian didn't get here first and somehow solve the pillar riddle, the only concept I put belief into was the avoidance of Meeko and Joe's death.

I was struck with an immense blow of recognition to the setting, a fickle of deja vu too strong to be dismissed as such yet too dim to inspire a memory. The only light came from Joe's tail flame. It was chilly underfoot, understandable since the thin layers of plant life serving as ground were damp to the touch. I thought it seemed odd that life could grow in places lacking a source of light. Did some sorcery, not unlike that which had preserved the four keys' indentations, keep it from dying?

Meeko had landed into this new scene securely on his feet, but expected so much for a species swap that he'd crumbled to his knees in anticipation. He drummed all ten digits across the plants and let out a breath of relief upon feeling the independent movements of his thumbs. Clothes still fit him fine, although he wished he had something to cover his bare arms with. This place had an unhealthy atmosphere, despite the heavenly pureness to the air. It made him feel vulnerable.

"Everyone okay?" Jill said at once, taking a quick head count. Both of us gave her sullen answers. She turned and blinked into the darkness, wary. "We're almost there, I think. Where are we?"

"Back to the beginning." Joe's voice hinted a joke I didn't understand, and in my politeness chuckled a hollow response.

"Is this... your universe?" Meeko asked, panic stricken. None of us could answer truthfully, let alone answer at all. There was no dirt available to us.

//_It better not be._// I warned nobody, experimentally standing up on my hind legs. At least doing this didn't hurt my back anymore.

We started walking once we were positive that nothing of any interest lay at our "bus stop". As to where our heading was or what direction we walked, I couldn't say. Walking here had a treadmill feel to it- each useless step only moved the ground below us in a never ending cycle. This maddening fantasy made my guts shrivel and my spit taste sour.

"So, uh... Where are we going?" I said timidly, discarding the two legged walk method. "I know it isn't just me who feels like we're not getting anywhere."

"It's just you." Both replied dully.

"Well, the only things around here is... plants. And an occasional puddle. How do yo--!"

The rest of my question came out in an animal squeal of surprise. I painfully stumbled down what felt like stone steps until gravity and my own struggles put me to rest seven steps from the bottom. Rubbing at a nasty bump my left cheekbone endured, I called out to them in alarm.

"Jade? What happened?" Jill asked, her voice uncomfortably fainter. The steps I'd fallen down were too steep for me to see any sign of them, even the fire.

"I fell down stairs. This place looks real sketchy, Jill..." It took on an ominous feel just as I said it and my voice rose a few notes out of fear. "And just to let you all know, being alone down here isn't that nice."

"What? What's the matter?" Meeko asked, and was ignored.

They made there way down the stairs at a swift pace, and still it wasn't fast enough for me. I kept my eyes fixed on the step, fearing I would panic if I saw anything fearsome at the foot of the stairs. This wasn't some petty fear of the dark. I could easily light up a decent portion of this cavern if I wanted to... If I wanted to.

Only when they were a couple steps away did I gather the courage to move. Seeing this shift of shadows on the borderline of light and dark, Joe held both arms out to stop the two beside him. I hopped up the steps to reunite with them, the fur along my back irritated at my childish fear. The fright I'd felt stuck firmly to my insides, shaken and watery and not quite convinced I was safe.

"Nice job." Joe said neutrally, in such a way that I had to look up at his face for any sign of sarcasm. He returned my gaze and repeated his questionable praise. "Nice job. This looks like the place we're supposed to be."

I didn't ask him how he knew this, having learned that it was a fool's task to question the only reason currently available. We conquered the rest of the steps and advanced in a straight path from its foot. With the familiar arrival of the scenery came the treadmill syndrome, much to my dismay. When would this all end?

"Ugh!" Joe attempted to exclaim a warning of some sort, but he'd somehow forgotten how to make the words. He stopped in his tracks, taking a couple frantic steps backward. To us he was fighting off an apparation, his claws trying to slaughter air and doing about as much of an effect on his unseen attacker. His skin and eyes gained an azure tint. Furrowing his brow (even this took on the appearance of extreme effort) he shot a flamethrower up to the ceiling. This sent the majority of the clearing into an unsteady light. As a reflex to the unknown danger Meeko drew out Damion, who at this point didn't bother asking of their new surroundings.

Had we not been interrupted, we would have found ourselves facing a dead end. The stairs from which I'd fallen formed a great semi circle around the smooth, plant riddled ground we walked on. It was on these steps that we spotted the culprit, so chillingly close to our party that it could have lashed out at us as we trailed down the stairs. Not that it had the physical strength to do so. Now clearly in our sights, the mutant celebi broke his hold over Joe.

"Shh! It's only me, please, you'll alert them!" Cel begged, hovering towards us. The fire above writhed in its starvation and shriveled out of existence, ultimately destroying the light. In the dark his voice grew clearer with distance. "I'm here to take you home again."

This interested us all for obvious reasons. Joe waited until Cel's eyes were visible, and then dared to ask how he could do it.

"The portals I create to travel great distances should work fine. I think."

"Okay, okay. Can we get this over with before anything bad happens?" I interjected, looking vainly into the dark. "I just have that feeling. Like something unimaginably bad's gonna happen before we... before..."

"Before what?" Jill asked, and, seeing the direction of my gaze, looked up in order to follow it. She paled, sweat breaking out around her eyes. Damion sensed the tension and tugged at Meeko's pant leg to tell him to move.

"Before you die." The dark finished. Before we'd even begun to process this threat, death pounced in a queer form I couldn't specify. It was a colorless torrent of...space. It stood out so clearly from the rest of the unlit cavern merely because it was so much darker than the area around it. We scattered from it at once, even the slow witted Meeko, and spared ourselves the mysterious consequences of making contact with it.

"Emm, spare them, please!" Cel begged our attacker. Judging from the way his voice carried he must have been approaching this 'Emm'. "They've suffered enough, let them go home!"

"Do //_not_//interfere with my revenge, soothsayer! I won't hesitate to kill you as well."

"No! It was my fault that this all happened! Leave them alone!"

"Quiet!" Emm's burst of anger was shadowed by the sound of a whip cracking. It met something solid, something that cried out at its touch, and something that was hurtled several yards away to land crumpled over the edge of a step. Cel's voice fell curiously silent, and Emm took the responsibility of replacing it with its own.

"If you stand still for me I promise the safe return of that human and his pokémon back to the burned tower." The so far bodiless Emm's tone sounded so smooth that I found myself calming in spite of the situation. "I won't alert the other legendaries of your arrival, to avoid possible torture. Stand still and die, or flee and make death a favorable option!" Emm thrust another one of those strange space bullets and nearly engulfed Damion in it.

Why did it want to take its anger out on us? What the hell did we do as humans before this, other than act like total idiots? I wanted to yell something along the lines of 'this is wrong, it's not right to do this!', but didn't for fear of making myself a liable target. A crazy part of me wanted to be a pichu again, a small body and a quiet mind to help me survive this ordeal. For now all I could do was stay silent in the darkness and hope one of those attacks didn't come my way...

Over on the stairs, Cel's brief blackout dissolved almost instantly. He opened his eyes and blinked senselessly at the step his eyes and right arm dangled over. Sucking back in a line of spit that threatened to drip from his mouth, Cel shakily tried to hoist himself up. A lance of pain flared across his stomach and forced him back down with a suppressed cry. This wound was by no means fatal to him (it would take a much larger flesh wound to kill a being that nearly matched the greatness of a god), but pain was a cruel and bitter stranger to the young semi-deity. It left him immobile, terrified of bringing back what brought forth such a terrific feeling in an injury that should be hurting, yet didn't at the moment. He felt little blood warming beneath him. A good sign.

He heard Emm's attack whistle into the dark, followed by a chorus of frightened screams. There were no shrieks of agony; even a powerful creature like Emm had a hard time aiming into the dark. Meeko would shout orders at Damion to attack, expecting the totodile to possess the ability of night vision. The boy was brave, but also ignorant to what was going on. Cel suspected that Joe and I, the light bearers, were too busy fighting past cowardice to light up the cavern.

Tentatively, Cel drew out his arm, groping for a bundle of plant life. When his fingers found purchase, he concentrated on channeling his energy into the vegetation. He predicted that it would spread out among the rest of the plants until an equilibrium was reached, behaving the same way water would if poured onto a flat surface. The energy converted into light gave off a black light violet. Cel assumed he was too wicked a creature to produce a brighter color.

I flinched away from my spot, scared to remain in one place for so long now that the plants underfoot were glowing a thin purple shade. Emm turned out to be the mew mutant, looking no prettier than the last we'd seen of it twenty three days ago. It smiled and turned to its fallen companion.

"Thank you for the light, soothsayer."

//_"Fight back until I can create the portal!"_//Cel thought to us thinly, a small hand resting over a bundle of plants beside him.

Excuse me? I gaped at him in bewilderment. That hit had to have rattled his wits loose! We had a hard enough time beating the locals of this universe, so there was no way any of us were idiotic enough to launch ourselves at the bigwigs. Of course by us I meant Jill, Joe and me.

Following an order by Meeko, Damion charged full throttle at the mew. The totodile had a great urge to snarl, and struggled to hold it back so as to keep his offensive move a secret. It turned out to be a vain attempt.

All Emm had to do was hold out its hand, now accustomed to its unproportionally large claws' weight. Damion saw this movement and slowed to a stop about three feet from the mew, struck frozen by the power of intimidation. This was a pokémon he'd grown up hearing stories about by Meeko's captured pokémon. The legendary Emm, known to the humans as the extinct Mew species (as if more than one existed), had once saved the planet from destruction, earning it a reserved spot in the halls of Heaven. Would he dare try attacking such a sacred, powerful creature, no matter how hellish it looked on the outside?

"Bow, totodile."

He did.

"My will comes before that of your trainer's. Return to his side and ignore his commands."

And just like that, Damion complied. No form of psychic attack had taken place. Meeko attempted to issue an order, which was, obviously, overpowered by Damion's strange loyalty to Emm.

"You're just going to-? How could you give in to that!" I sputtered in disbelief, outraged at his submission, even though I myself had been too frightened to try an attack. Jill was in a similar state, barely getting a word out edgewise. The mew only had to look at us both to shut us up. Its eyes strayed on mine and I squirmed, clearly regretting my words.

"I'll kill you first for this lapse of respect. Stand still, girl. Obey a ruler of the universe." Emm hovered closer.

//_**"I will."**_// I breathed, the words cold on my tongue. I was mesmerized by that authority, at least the Voice was, and felt myself giving in to its wishes. More than anything I wanted to flee.

"Jade, move! Run, go!" Joe bawled from his own spot in one corner.

//_I really want to, Joe. It's gonna kill me._// I started thinking, tears of terror welling up in my eyes. This was a nightmare that I wouldn't awaken from in a cold sweat when I died.

Emm brought both its hands together and maneuvered its claws about in a way that reminded me of how to make a snowball. What formed inside was far more sinister, a black orb of death made tangible. The legendary grew it to about twice my size before engulfing me in its dark depths.

I believe that my instinctive exhale was what saved me from a more painful experience a tad too complex to explain here. It felt as if ever inch of my body was being pulled outward in all directions, which told me that this was a vacuum in need of being filled up. So yes, somehow Emm could create chunks of space at its own will, or maybe it had cut a portion of outer space out and brought it down to torture me. Either way it was extremely uncomfortable, and so terrifying that for the first five seconds my head reeled in confusion.

After gathering my wits I attempted to breathe in, a hopeless move driven only by the sheer want to survive. I might as well have tried to take a healthy breath out of a glass bottle. Then came this unbearable dryness in my mouth and nose, followed by a rapid decrease of temperature inside them. My eyes shut tight with the pain of it, but any moan I may have emitted came out soundless. The muscles in my arms and legs twitched, convulsed visibly, throbbing a pain not quite bad enough to be called agony. They began swelling; I didn't see this actually happening, but felt their new, awkward heaviness as I floated in this chamber of nothing. Feebly, I tried to summon sparks, as if this were a foe that would release me if I harmed it enough. Why I thought this is a mystery to me.

With the lacking of an atmosphere the oxygen in my bloodstream expanded, and I would have shrieked aloud at this new pain had I any breath to do it. My vision flickered, grew darker, and then shut down all together, despite the fact that my eyes were open. I began to lose sense of where I was, a shivering, mindless creature stuck in the jaws of a predator, perhaps. To go along with the twitches in my limbs, the rest of my body started to convulse, and at that point consciousness finally decided to collapse.

What felt like half a second later I caught a scrap of air in my teeth and sucked it in greedily. My nose and mouth were still freezing, and the rest of my oxygen deprived body was numb. I opened my eyes, the tears plastered on before the attack now gone from view. I wished they hadn't left- these were also painfully dry and cold. However, dryness of the eyes were the least of my problems. Even though they were clearly open, the dark shroud a closed eyelid promised remained.

"She's awake! Oh my god, what are those bumps on her face? Jade! Jade! Oh my god... What happened..." Jill sobbed her hysteria, and it pained my heart to hear such a noise.

"Wuh-what bumps?" I asked the darkness weakly. She ceased her crying with a fragile gasp and, after I breathed enough for the ringing in my ears to go away, I continued, "How...ho-how..."

"They saved you, they saved you! Oh my god, how did you //_live_// through that, you were in there for at least a minute!"

This out of breath handicap couldn't irritate me, as I was too tired to feel irritation. "Can't see." I murmured.

"What?"

"I can't...see! Blind."

"...h-hold on. She'll heal you, you'll get your sight back soon." Jill said quietly, the fear in her voice laid open to me now that I couldn't see. She made a move, and I shifted my bloated arm a few inches towards the noise.

"Don't leave me." I whispered desperately. Emm could come back for me, finish what it started... Please, please no, don't leave me alone with that, Jill. It wouldn't be fair to me, your blind, helpless twin. Instead I simply said, "D-don't..."

"Only for a second-"

And then she fled from me, clearly scared off by the mangled sight of my body. I heard a smoothie of voices and snarls, all overlapping together to form one large, soggy headache. Even though I was sprawled out on my back, I felt a great weight in my head and wanted to press myself even lower to the ground to ease the strain. My sightless eyes scanned the dark wildly, opening, shutting, seemingly mad pieces of flesh gone rogue in this worn down body.

"Jill. Jill!" I called her name continuously, volume growing with the desperation of my dilemma, until I howled it like a toddler. Being blind, it was the worst feeling. Worse than guilt, regret, anxiety- the immense vulnerability reduced me to this crying human in a miss matched rodent skin.

At last came the heavy steps of four feet, followed by the gentle patter of paws. This confused me further. Excluding myself, none of us had paws, and this alien presence made me seize up with fright.

"No Jade, I am only here to heal... Calm yourself, and give me a sample of your breath." That voice was the kind that made me grit my teeth in immediate dislike, and it was this fleeting thought that helped me identify who the stranger was.

"Shimmertail?"

"Yes. Shadowveil is here as well, serving as a distraction. What did it do to her?" This last was directed at Jill, thankfully, because I wasn't sure I could think up a reasonable enough explanations in my current state.

"I don't know. She was in there for a long time though..." At this point Jill's voice wavered.

I felt the warmth of Shimmertail's face hovering inches above mine, and looked up at what I thought were her eyes. Then, I exhaled slowly, and after a moment's pause the espeon whispered mechanically:

"Full body oxygen deprivation, expansion of oxygen in the blood stream, temporary blindness, frostbite in nose, mouth, and around the eyes..." She went on to list other conditions I couldn't hope to pronounce, much less remember. When she finished the list Shimmertail began the healing. Jill was my host in this case, emitting the healing substance in what I assumed to be by the handful. The fact that Emm could interrupt this at any time ruined the calmness anyone else would have felt.

I kept my eyes squinted shut, not wanting to damage them further by looking directly at the fluttering green motes. Before long the lids relaxed however, the small things I'd committed to remembering in that instant anchored away by the healing process. The pain in my body took on this image: it welded to me like bird shit to a statue, until the green spheres came and melted it loose. The pain trickled down, weakened of its strength with the weakening of its hold on me, and gathered in a seething cauldron below. By the time the healing was finished this cauldron of my suffering had been disposed of, forgotten. I opened my eyes to the purplish glow of the cavern, and the worried faces of Jill and Shimmertail. A spell of drowsiness replaced my pain, and made sitting up a feat too hard to be worth it.

"Rise, child!" Shimmertail insisted, and with the assistance of Jill's vines I reluctantly staggered to my feet. The espeon looked me over briefly, and then turned around to examine the battle.

Shadowveil was pinned to the ground by an unending wave of psychic will power, Emm's hand hovering inches above the attack. Although the psychic itself didn't harm him, the force it sandwiching one half of his body against solid stone left him powerless. He snarled up at Emm in defiance, limbs clawing away at the plants. I could tell by the jerking pattern he did this with his right semi-immobile front paw that he was moments from experiencing a fracture, if he hadn't already. Joe hung back, away from them both, unable to act past his fear of this legendary. Damion continued to grovel pathetically, and Meeko hid crouched among the shadows where Cel's light shone the least. As for Cel, he was it the same place Emm had left him, one hand gripping the plants to produce the light. His eyes glowed a sickly jade color, face turned upward as if praying to a divine source for his success at finding our portal home in time.

I hissed at Emm, battle lustful and cocky now that I had recovered from his space bullet ((possibly the most unintentional, dirty phrase in this entire story XD)). A hint of frost in my breath told me that my insane Voice wanted in on this fight. Like unlocking a door, I allowed instinct to take over. Which, to be honest, hardly felt any different than usual. It was more like putting a plane on auto-pilot.

I aimed (if there ever was a thing called 'aim' when projecting electricity) my attack towards Emm and fired. The mew looked up and away from Shadowveil, distracted by the buzzing my high voltage sawed into the sound barrier. It brought both hands up to deflect my attack, breaking its connection from the dazed umbreon. The bolts reflected off a shield it cheaply conjured and charged back at me. I jumped over the first, neutralized the harmfulness of the next by using a smaller shock against it, and took the full blast of the third. It was a glancing blow, a punch in the face that was more annoying than painful. Its force brought me teetering on my back legs, unbalanced.

Emm turned back down to finish off Shadowveil, only to find that its victim was no longer lying defenseless below it. The mew wasted only a couple seconds in doing this, which was plenty of time for both Jill and Shadowveil to issue attacks of their own. Jill hurled her vines at Emm, hoping that with enough speed their collision alone would be enough to send the clumsy legendary to the ground. It caught on to her ways and brought up the same deflecting shield, sneering face turned to her as her vines crashed painfully against its force field. So it was an extreme shock to Emm when it felt a pain equivelant to a bullet wound exploding along its spinal cord. It squalled like a cat and landed ungracefully to the ground, temporarily stunned by Shadowveil's attack. Damion gave a cry of his own at the sight.

"Attack the neck and spine! That is the key; we need to cripple it!" Shadowveil shouted, and pounced on Emm with a frothy snarl. The mew, already recovered and upright, swerved around in an attempt to skewer the leaping umbreon with its claws as he fell. The Voice, not I, saw this and shot a bolt of electricity so that it connected into Emm's wrists. Both its hands flew out of my line of sight and out of Shadowveil's line of impalement. Joe also scrambled over to Emm's fallen form, slashing blindly at any flesh unfortunate to travel in his range. Shadowveil took no notice to the occasional accidental swipe until one narrowly missed gouging his left eye out.

"Watch your attacks, child!" He scolded, and then dove for Emm's neck. As stunned as it was, Emm managed to produce a field of psychic energy over Shadowveil's mouth, a sort of invisible muzzle separating his fangs inches from the throat pinned beneath. To compromise this lack of a useful weapon Shadowveil put all his weight on the muzzle, so that Emm's windpipe was blocked under the unseen force. The mew's scythe of a tail scraped against the floor, useless since Emm had never committed any time into actually lifting its weight. Joe gripped one of Emm's arms, wriggling like a fish, and proceeded to snap the long claws to a length acceptable to a body's anatomy should they find themselves buried in their guts. The other arm's claws were too long to find effective purchase in the umbreon's side.

"Release me!" Emm roared, expanding the psychic energy around Shadowveil's mouth until its size repelled both he and Joe from any attacks. Before it could right itself up and resume its deadly perch in midair, Jill sneaked up from behind and wrapped her vines around its torso, arms, and neck. She tightened them the same way she might tighten her fingers, had she any. There were no cracks brought out by the tightening as far as she could feel, probably because Emm had molded that damned shield around its entire body so she would strangle that and not its bones. There wasn't an end to this!

//_Got any bright ideas?_// I asked the Voice and was, of course, ignored.

oo00oo

Shimmertail sensed some psychic mischief abroad and scampered as close as she dared to Emm. Then, taking a deep breath of anticipation, the espeon dipped her paws into the immense ocean that was Emm's mind. Similar to a body of water, delving into another's head took some getting used to, at least until she'd enveloped herself in its depths in all but the physical sense. Her physical body at this point was mindless.

At once Shimmertail felt hostility prey at her will, no doubt the guard dogs of a fortress (for this was what she portrayed the vastness of Emm's mind to be) who lurked at the surface of every conscious mind. She pushed the issue aside like a bad habit caught just before the committing of the act. Unlike Shadowveil, she could worm her way through most mental barriers and gain limited access to the brain. In her own twisted sense Shimmertail was a Voice, eager to take over whenever given the possibility. The mental intruder found a way in, and squeezed through to the other side.

//_**Who are you? Is this Shimmertail?**_// A maligned voice boomed at once, startling Shimmertail into releasing a bold image of an exclamation point. She felt herself brushing against this evil, disgusting, rotten presence and recoiled from it in revoltion. Her silence was the voice's only reply.

//_**There is no hiding from me, in my own head. Stay quiet if you'd like, it won't matter in the end.**_// The voice fell upon her, thick as steam, and surrounded her feeble presence. She couldn't escape Emm's head now unless she felt confident enough to attack its presence, and didn't dare move should that provoke the voice into attacking her. A little too late Shimmertail realized that in her attempt to force the psychic barriers down she'd wadded in roughly twenty stories over her head. Now she was trapped in here, while her body stood senseless out there.

//_Help me! Shadowveil, please come!_// She thought wildly, though knew that her words didn't travel farther than the thoughts of her host.

Delighted and fueled by her fear, the cage the presence had made closed tighter. //_**Yes, call out to him little human. My ears ring with your screams, but I relish in the sound all the same.**_//

Reckless with terror, Shimmertail lunged at the steam mass. It simply drew back, taunting her further.

//_Who are you?_// She shouted.

//_**I'm Emm, Shimmertail. Or, rather, it's Instinct. What the pikachu calls a Shadow Voice and what Cel calls an Inner Shadow.**_//

//_Let me go!_//

//_**Why, when the intent of your intrusion leads to my death?**_// The voice stated indignantly. //_**By nature I can't allow any harm to come to me. I should kill you.**_//

//_I am only doing this so that Jill, Joe, and Jade might go home. You endanger their lives, and by doing so have endangered yourself._//

Emm closed its ring tighter, forcing Shimmertail to gather tautly in the center. //_**Whether or not they die is up to their instincts, not you! Think like the animal you are, human. Come, where is that instinct of your own?**_//

Without warning the presence merged into Shimmertail, combined its own mental essence with hers. She dove about in Emm's mind, maddened by the disgust and violation she felt at the voice's touch. It shuffled about, searching for something, its tactics growing violent as the length of its failure increased. This process wasn't painless.

//_What are you doing? Detach yourself!_// Shimmertail screamed, and couldn't help but feel like she was being mind-raped.

//_**You have an instinct in here somewhere, and I intend to draw it out. You were captured in a pok**__**é**__**ball. Your soul was weakened. Your conscious mind has no right to live!**_//

Shimmertail couldn't fully grasp what he was saying, though the idea of her conscious mind's death didn't appeal to her. She tried to concentrate on her surroundings, despite the parasite hacking away within her mental being. She felt the voice come across some sleeping form in her presence, and heard it think '_**I've found you!'.**_ Emm's mind controls lay unguarded before her, and she hardly hesitated in wreaking as much havok as possible for as long as possible. The hand that had gripped around what she thought to be her instinct jerked away and screamed.

oo00oo

I didn't know what Shimmertail had done, but whatever it was saved our asses from getting kicked from here to the pits of hell. The position Emm was in could hardly get any worse, save for the fact that at any time a ripple of psychic energy could spike outward, granting the mew with enough strength to overcome the vines and alert the other legendaries that there were intruders in the meeting place. All it had to do was wait for the power to stray by, catch it, harness it, use it to push back the vines and possibly obliterate one of us before the psychic wave passed. So, as Shadowveil whispered to himself when he saw Shimmertail's vacant expression, it was up to her.

"_**Can't we all attack at once to break the shield?**_" The voice asked through me, my tone uncharacteristically rotten. All but Meeko, Cel, and the struggling Emm turned to look at me. Jill noted that my eyes were gray and spoke past the effort it took to keep her hold on Emm.

"Jade... Is that- are you her?"

"_**I can go back to normal at any time. When the battle's over.**_" I answered, part of it merging with the Voice's. This of course had to be tested, but I felt confident I had the strength required to force the instinct back into my head. Not everything had been handed over to her, at least not all at once. I could still talk, move, even hold back an attack if I tried hard and screamed at her loud enough.

"I should kill you!" Emm cried, forgetting to swallow its own spit in its desperate struggle for freedom. I had a distinct feeling that it was talking to Shimmertail. It paused, slowed its wriggling, and suddenly started up again. "Your soul is weakened!"

Emm audibly gasped and sputtered, "How-?" before its shield flickered out and the strangling pressure being brought out against the barrier coiled around its slim, feline body. Jill now felt the cracks of bone traveling through her vines, and bit down on her tongue to block the bile. They were the arms and possibly a few ribs that had snapped. //_She'd snapped them._// That's why it was screaming so loudly...

There was another part of the body she constricted whose bone hadn't quite given in yet. She looked up at Emm, gone mad with the pain, and noticed that the loop around its neck hadn't caved in yet.

//_I have to break its neck._// Jill thought, closing her eyes. The left's upper lid twitched when she drew up a mental picture of how that would look. Its crack would sound like a gunshot to her, deliciously satisfying. She quailed, and began loosening her grip.

"Keep hold of it, bayleaf! Break the neck!" Shadowveil called.

"I don't have to do that! We can leave it this way, can't we?" Jill asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"_**Until its paralyzed that thing can still hurt us.**_"

"You shut up and stay out of this! What do you care?" She snapped, which stung a bit since it was actually me and not the Voice who'd said that.

"Yeah, put it down! For the legen-gendar-" Damion couldn't bring it upon himself to say the word. It was like me saying 'oh my god' in the same room as Him, the big cheese upstairs, I mean. "-sake."

"//_You_// stay out of this, totodile. You are ignorant to everything. This creature is not an icon of worship, so leave us to our business without your mindless words as distraction!" Shadowveil snarled thickly. He looked at Jill, the traces of anger he'd showed quickly fading off. "If you do not kill it, it will kill you. Do what your instinct tells you."

She bit her lip, literally awaiting an answer from her chatty Voice. Instead of using words it took brief control over her, tightened the vines to their limit, and cracked Emm's neck. Jill shrieked at the horror of the kill, hearing its gunshot sound effects and feeling the last dying twitches of Emm through her vines. She dropped the not quite alive mew rather heartlessly, as if it was the source of all her self loathing.

Shimmertail returned to her senses the very instant Emm sputtered its last, rattling breath. She tripped over herself at first, surprised by her solidity, but quickly regained balance before any of us took worry. The espeon beamed an uncertain, if not smug, grin.

"And now we wait." She sighed, inspecting Cel's progress. He looked no different from when he first began searching for our universe, save for the additional smears of blood on his chest. It was impossible to tell whether he could finish now or in another month.

Meeko and Damion emerged from their hiding places, the boy having seen too many horror movies to be satisfied at the sight of the monster's corpse. He stood clear of it and the group it seemed to attract so strongly. His confusion of the situation deepened as Damion knelt before the dead mew in a submissive bow.

//_I wish I could speak their language._// He thought, and nearly cawed a nervous fit of laughter for thinking such a wish.

Emm's body was just beginning to stiffen up when Cel rose from his stupor. He cast a hasty glance at the dead legendary, leaking out a momentary grimace of sorrow, and then turned away from it. Emm had been a friend to him before the change, as well as all the other legendaries, and seeing it dead rattled him to the core of his head. The blind grip Cel had on our universe couldn't be hindered by grief, so he conjured up the thought that Emm would awaken in heaven in the body it was born as. This supplied a temporary painkiller until his tears could be more convenient.

"I'm sorry I took so long. It is extremely hard sorting through all the parallel universes of your world." Cel said to the ground, face and voice tight. "The portal is ready."

"So we're going home? Finally? No more problems?" I asked, distrusting his words.

Cel started to bite his lip, remembered the painful line of fangs there, and thought better of it. "In truth I do not know how your soul will react to my methods of travel. It's made for those whose souls are held captive by their instincts."

"Meaning?" Jill trailed, also determined to keep her eyes away from Emm's body.

"Guys like Marc, or Emm, or... Hitler or something." I explained in a rush. "We'll just keep our fingers crossed. Now come on! Make with the magic already!"

"Wait one second." Cel replied firmly. Without looking up from the ground he said, "Shimmertail... You have the option of going with them. There is a risk that it might be a parallel universe of the one you came from, but I'm sure you would rather deal with that issue than this one."

"Yes, a new home in an old body surpasses the threat of insanity." Shimmertail confirmed with a nod of her head. She turned to Shadowveil, eyes narrowed in dismay. "Although it will take a great deal of time before the thought of you does not cause me pain."

"Love, like memories, softens over time. That day shall come sooner than you anticipate." He said lowly, his expression mirroring her own. The umbreon cuffed the tip of one of her ears, showing the affectionate side he lacked during our last meeting. "I will have Cel tell me if you all reach the universe safely. Good luck."

Cel timidly stood up straight and took a vicious swing at the air, and from the arc he traced our portal hummed into sight. He leaned forward until only half his body was in this universe while his upper lingered in ours, and then pulled himself out.

"This leads directly to the hospital beds your bodies are in. Be absolutely sure that the body you intend to merge with is yours." He explained, ushering us over. I was the first to overcome the shock, and stumbled towards him on numb paws. My heart pounded crazily, my ears roared, and I sincerely hoped I didn't faint in the short walk over. Finally, finally, we were going home!

oo00oo

Damion dug his claws into the plants around him, finding this a better option than his own skin. They bled their purple glow over his claw tips, and then darkened to their previous, dead behavior. This murder traumatized him to no end; why had they killed Emm? For whatever reason it wanted the three dead, and Damion held no argument to its wishes. They must have deserved it. ...they still deserved it! If only this cold corpse in front of him could give Damion the strength to kill them, he would. His simple mind whirled.

//_Scratch, scratch._//

Damion looked up from Emm's body at the noise. He knew he wasn't famous for his sense of hearing, so when he heard something it was going to be quite audible to everyone else. He eyed Jade for any hint that she'd heard it, and found none. She, as well as everyone else, were too caught in the moment of the killing. The reptile scanned his surroundings for the source.

There. Somehow a large, bulky shape had managed to climb down the stairs into this area (during the battle, no doubt). It sauntered its way towards Jill from the shadows, and from his visual Damion saw how it fumbled with its claws while walking on all fours. He narrowed his eyes at the shape, still unable to specify it since it seemed to have the wits enough to avoid the range of Joe's tail flame or the purple glow of the plants. The shape parted its jaws and breathed in the scents, a behavior only a handful of pokémon acquired. Damion's evolution cycle was one of them. In silent amazement Damion inhaled the smells through his mouth as well. This cavern neutralized any that may have been left behind by legendaries such as Emm. Both he and this dark mote were confused by this.

//_Should I say something?_// The totodile wondered. //_It might hurt them._//

Damion chewed on this last note thoughtfully. If this possible predator killed the three, it wouldn't be considered murder. After all, an eye for an eye, right? Kill the trio a hundred times and it still wouldn't match the murder of Emm. Leaning on this logic, Damion said nothing about the creature about to kill Jill.

What happened next fulfilled the grave expectations of Cel, and completely obliterated Damion's. Instead of continuing on towards Jill, the shape rejected her and lurked over to the only one separated from the group: Meeko. No, it was supposed to attack Jill! Stunned, it took Damion several seconds to find his voice and shout out a warning.

"Meeko! Meeko, run!"

His trainer looked over in response to Damion's howling, puzzled. The group locked eyes in Meeko's direction, trying to find what Damion had seen.

The shape snarled in anger, and broke from the shadows on two legs towards Meeko. Joe screamed 'Marc!' and everyone else shouted 'Waterburn!'. Either way, it made no difference to the feraligator- he'd been caught in the act, but intended to leave this place with the flesh of a kill in his jaws.

Meeko screamed, flinched back, and held his arms up by means of fruitless protection. He'd been assaulted by large humans and small pokémon before, neither of them potentially hazardous to his health unless given a weapon. Now, to see this monster barreling at him, reaching a clean two feet taller than his height, he was rooted to the spot, strangled in place by fear.

Waterburn thrust forward his claws, brown with Adrian's dried blood, and buried them beside each other deep into Meeko's chest. The boy threw his head back and gave an animal-like scream of agony, tugging at the claws with his hands in an attempt to tear them away. He pulled the weak human off his feet with his death hold, like a bully may hold an inferior up by the shirt collar, and snarled in Meeko's pale face. Blood gushed thickly down both boy and pokémon.

The claws hadn't lodged themselves deep enough to destroy Meeko's lungs, more of a torture than a blessing since it would take that much longer to kill him. His breast bone was shattered in ten different places if he counted the amount of claws correctly. He breathed in for another scream, and instead choked on the blood bubbling into his throat. Each agonizing cough sent speckles of blood from his mouth. The feraligator's face wavered before his eyes, his legs ran on air, tears came almost as freely as the blood.

Meeko felt the pain worsen as he was lifted up higher, and shouted thinly in pain through the blood. Then, Waterburn ripped his claws free, sealing Meeko's fate, and the boy fell shrieking to the ground. The impact jarred his wounds cruelly since he'd fallen on his stomach, but at this point Meeko couldn't even lift up his head to look death in the face, much less scream about it. He faced the glowing plants, seeing their light even through his tightly closed lids. Without thinking he clamped his teeth over a bundle of them, keeping hold despite their bitter taste.

"M-mom..." He forced out shamelessly, drinking the sharp juices the plant gave off. Its strong taste, along with an image of the parent he would never see again, distracted him from the worst of the pain. "I-I..."

Meeko couldn't finish. He clenched his fists tightly, and begged for death to release him. On the border of his hearing Meeko could hear the sound of someone screaming. It sounded a lot like him.


	27. Don't Waste It

Author's Note: Hm, my last author's note was deleted from chapter 26 for some reason. ':P Oh well. Oh! The very first page of this chapter is number 200! That's with small font size, too. And I'd like to warn beforehand that this chapter is //20 pages long//. x.x Each time I open up the file to this story, the computer goes into a mini coma. XDD I kid you not. Anyways, I received a question regarding my 'career' here on after I finished this story. I actually want to try making an actual story to put up on fictionpress, but don't worry! I'll still review and read stories and authors I watch, maybe put up one shots like that Kingdom Hearts one a year(ish?) ago. Only the epilogue-type chapter left! Don't skip it, it's pretty much the ending (hm, who'd have thought that?). One last thing: the quote towards the end of the chapter, "Don't waste the life he gave you.", was supposed to make the reader wonder who exactly the 'he' is, but I don't like that. So I'd just like to point out that 'he' isn't capitalized!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven: "Don't Waste It"**

How could I have been so stupid? There was no escaping the clutches of a prophecy, a vision, or whatever the hell they call it in all those cliche television shows. What made me thrill with the self-loathing of it all was the fact of how easily this could have been avoided. I knew ever since the dream that a feraligator would be Meeko's untimely end. However, the distracting worry that Damion was the culprit dismissed any other concerns when we saw Mar...Waterburn evolve while Damion remained unchanged. Back then Marc was still Marc. We were suspicious of his dark nature... but none of us actually took him as the betrayer. The heart flayer.

How could I have been so stupid...

Meeko was either dead or dying in great agony. He lay face first on the ground, shivering for a while, at least until the torrent of blood around him grew in size enough for me to see it. Which took under ten seconds, mind. I never wanted something so horrible to happen to the kid. His repeated lack of faith had proved too much for us in the end, when we disowned him beneath the shadow of Tin Tower. Back then, less than half an hour ago, I saw him as a disloyal, indecisive human; one foot on our side, the other on his own interests. Now, knowing that he would never talk again, never smile, never laugh, I regretted never seeing him as the friendly figure I'd been too impatient to observe beforehand.

It was his choice to get us out of that lab. His choice to believe our farfetched story and accompany us at our weakest point of the journey. Misfortune had followed us relentlessly, taking Meeko along for the ride. He'd dealt with it up until his other pokémon were put at risk, and at that point he wished to follow his tactics instead of ours. Why the hell were we so hard on him for wanting that? Maybe I could come up with a reasonable answer when all of that was happening, but not now when the threat of Joe's capture was behind us. The other instance of us being seized by the lab group couldn't be controlled either. They'd handcuffed him to a sign, so he obviously didn't play an intentional role in it. In the end Meeko was our savior, and what did we do to thank him? We spat on his species and rejected him.

//_Why do I think of all these things now,_// I thought, tears forcing their way into view. //_when he isn't alive for me to apologize?//_

Sobbing, I threw myself to the ground, well aware that somewhere in this dark cavern a pichu and a mutant celebi watched their future play out before them. Smile for the fucking camera Jade.

"No, no, Marc... What did you do?" I moaned, face buried in my hands. Two hearts flayed... One physically, one emotionally. Since Adrian hadn't made an appearence yet I assumed Waterburn had betrayed his master. If Adrian lived through this betrayal it was just another thing to cry about. The only sequence left was Joe foolishly charging out to avenge his friend's death. This added on to my grief since, as mentioned above, there was no escaping the prophecy. Joe's rage would leave him deaf to us, blind to what he was about to do.

He shoved us aside and ran at his brother on all fours, streaming tears unseen in the dark. His tail gave him away, as always, and Waterburn swerved around to face this unlikely attacker in scorn. Jill screamed his name in anguish, I sobbed it. I didn't want to see this.

There was no hesitation. Joe didn't try changing his course, even as Waterburn raised his clumsy arms for the killing blow. He would bring them down just as Joe jumped up. If they missed his head they would crash into his neck, break it, and smother the flame burning in the charmeleon's eyes either way.

Just as Waterburn predicted, in the last yard between them Joe coiled his back legs for the pounce, and lifted up his front arms. The larger creature threw his claws down at Joe as his back legs left the ground. I reached up to cover my ears from the death-scream.

Eyes tightly shut, I still couldn't escape the bright light of Joe's last flamethrower. It seared into my eye balls much brighter than normal for it to be fire. Fire didn't give off a white glow... did it? I couldn't trust myself to open my eyes.

"Jade! Jade, look!" Jill nudged me harder than intended, so that I had to throw my hands out or else face plant into the ground. I forgave this silently and lifted my head up to look.

Somehow, within the same hour, Joe had evolved again. He rose at least a foot taller than Waterburn, both pairs of eyes alike in their gray color, both faces etched in livid fury. His tail was strong enough to light up half the cavern area. For some reason I didn't think that this was what Jill alerted me about. Instead of attacking Waterburn, Joe had him in a suffocating embrace. He pinned both deadly arms to their sides and leaned his head over the feraligator's shoulder. His jaws clamped erratically near the bewildered enemy's neck, as if he himself had to control his attacks. The tears were visible now, as well as the ferocious face they scrambled down.

I was still concerned for Joe's well being. Our Voices grew in strength after the first evolution, so how strong would it be now? Was it telling Joe what to do?

In a burst of anger Waterburn threw his arms free, sliding Joe's hands upward, close to the shoulder area. His jaw was too broad for it to get a grip on... well anything, so thankfully all Joe needed to worry about were those claws. His massive wings made for excellent protection, at least until Waterburn had a chance to rip them off.

And apparently, now was as good a chance as any. He slashed his claws across Joe's fortified back, peeling away at wings that would never taste flight. Joe held back his cries, but was unable to restrain the fresh tears. His claws itched to do the same to Waterburn, and to curb this urge he tightened his embrace. This was too far away for us to note, but had we the ability we might have seen his eyes, flitting from brown to gray and back again in an endless, maddening cycle.

oo00oo

Reader, picture this well: You are in what would exist had nothing ever come into existance. Considering the fact that to picture pure nothing is a task too great for the limits of the average human mind, let's just call this nothing place what your fridge might look like when the door is closed. Another example of where this place might be is this: close your eyes and look up at the darkness your eyelid brings. Try to look beyond the darkness boundry, strain your eyes to find an edge, and you soon realize that this type of darkness has no beginning, no end, no changes. Beyond this limitless darkness lies the nothing place.

There is no light. Only the endless sound of silence greets what you want to assume are ears. You are deaf, blind, paralyzed, mute, a soul broken free of its bodily prison. Your simplified thoughts are all the company you have, and need, for that matter.

This is not the case for Marc.

He is, to put it simply. He exists in an abyss where to exist is a crime, a mistake, literally a freak of un-nature. Just by thinking he has a body would Marc be granted with a body. It is his shackle in this nothing place, the anchor preventing his soul from dissipating and resting in peace. He doesn't know this, or that just by thinking about it he could create light. Or a way to the top.

Yes, the top, where he came from. Marc can't remember what this place was like, only that its natural laws would accept his state of being. It wouldn't make each instant seem an hour longer in this unliving hell. It would embrace his body, not reject it. So Marc wishes to reach the top, but each time he scales upward someone is there to drag him back down.

The culprit is his Instinct. It too, takes a body. His. It sounds like Marc, acts like him, and shares Marc's sick idea that torture is amusing.

Today Marc plans an attempt to reach the top. He is on his knees, human knees, reptile knees, sometimes clothed, sometimes naked. His mind isn't sure which is correct, and Marc subconsciously chooses for it. He takes his human shape and begins the perilous climb. If he's caught in the act of trying to reach the top he will be punished.

It doesn't take long for the Instinct to arrive. Marc knows it comes from the top, because it carries with it a reserve of life essence, like a diver's reserve of oxygen. He'd snatched a handful of this once and experienced his five senses again for nearly six seconds. The memories he'd lost, the sounds and smells he'd forgotten, all appeared before him... and then fleeted out of sight. To lose it so quickly was the most wretched feeling, and Marc tried to avoid making contact with the life essence when he could from then on.

The Instinct glowers at Marc, using his glare-and-head-tilt expression.

//_You try to escape again?Think you'll make it?_// It asks voicelessly.

//_Yes._// Marc replies, his ability to speak in this place limited to choppy answers.

The Instinct scoffs. //_But how can you climb any higher when the shackles on your ankles are stretched to their limit?_//

Of course there are no shackles on Marc's ankles, but when one hears the word fire they think fire, and a moment after he comprehends the Instinct's words the shackles materialize. If only Marc could control what he thought, maybe he would have the strength to avoid these mind traps and get to the top.

//_I'm going to pull you down now._// The Instinct states, his tone one level below a command.

//_You're going to-_// Marc clarifies, and is reeled back down to his hateful perch before the rest is thought out. Anger swells in his head.

//_Those chains on your wrists seem a little too tight on you._// The Instinct muses, as if giving the time of day. //_And the hooks melded onto your shoulder blades burn extra hot today._//

//_I'm sorry! I'm sorry!_// Marc thinks, feeling his wrists crack and the bones wriggling beneath his back sear. He only feels this pain because he expects it to come.

//_You're not sorry, Marc. You don't understand how things play out between you and I._//

//_I...I do. You're the boss. I lost my chance to live._//

//_And yet you continuously attempt to reach the top. Why?_//

//_Uh..._// To say how he truly felt about this evil clone would only double his punishment. Instead he says meekly//_I don't know._//

The Instinct accepts this submission and walks towards Marc. He pulls a rather large, writhing handful of life essence out of his chest and throws its ghostly contents in the human's face.

Marc gasps lightly at its pleasantly cold touch and thinks, as he had every other time he was punished, how this could be a tool for his suffering. He can see again through actual eyes, feral gray eyes, yes, but eyes nonetheless. It is an eerily lit cavern he prowls in (any brighter and the light would sear his pupils), alive with fresh smells and familiar faces. Each nerve ending responds to the lightest call, from a clawed foot scraping against an array of odd glowing plants to air currents whispering secrets to the scales on his arms. His spit aquires a sort of taste, a peculiar flavor he'd grown used to after the first few months of his human life. Sound he accepts less willingly, as hushed as it seemed coming from the group nearby.

Marc has no control over his actions. He might as well have been watching a movie through first person in the most realistic virtual reality chamber known to modern technology. The fact that he's powerless doesn't daunt his happiness of temporarily living again.

Temporarily. The word leaves a sour note behind in his head. That's why it was a punishment. He would hold no recollection of this experience himself when the essence dried up. Only the knowledge that he'd caught a glimpse of the top would be there, and not the actual events he'd witnessed. Soon he would retreat back into the nothing place, craving for what his soul persistantly believed he'd never had. The thought was miserable.

//_Take a look at the pokémon, Marc..._// Came the Instinct's snide voice from no where. Out of habit he obeys, and what happened next made mental tears well up in his mind's eye.

He takes one look at the charmeleon and knows it is his brother. He looks at the pikachu and the bayleaf and knoww they are close friends, his only friends. The mutant mew corpse on the ground is who tempted Marc into opening his conscience in the first place about a month ago. All the memories that net ball had torn to shreads reappear before him as if they'd never been destroyed. Marc takes them in bitterly, knowing that in a few minutes all of this will be forgotten.

//_Please..._ _Don't make me forget._// Marc pleads, obviously in vain. He looks on at the world he missed so much, captivated by the colors, sights, and tastes. How many times had he been tortured like this?

He sees his body slinking in the dark, not yet detected by his friends and the four strangers. As he draws closer to Jill, Marc locks eyes with the totodile, but the foolish creature holds his tongue. He feels himself baring his teeth in anticipitation.

//_What are you doing?_// He asks anxiously.

//_I'm going to kill your friend._//

//_Leave her alone!_//

//_Complain and I'll attack your brother instead!_//

//_No! You won't hurt them!_// Marc flails about mentally, stretching his being to the far corners of where he currently lurks until the boundries falter and peel away. With this brief period of control, Marc turns himself away from Jill and targets them at a human boy separated from the rest of the group. The teenager saunters towards the human, hears the totodile cry out a warning and turns to snarl at them for effect. Then, feeling his Instinct partially recover, he charges the rest of the way and deals the deadly blow to his prey.

//_There. You have your warning, guys._// He thinks, a feeling of serenity relaxing his blood. The Instinct is nearly back in control, and with the little strength he has left Marc turns around and tries to tell Joe to kill him. His shock at the situation makes him forget how.

Jade is sobbing on her knees, asking //_him_//, not Waterburn (as if she knew Marc had performed the deed), what he'd done. He wants to defend himself but his mouth can't move by his own will anymore.

//_I...I warned you, though._ _I'm not a betrayer!_// Marc protests in his head while his throat forms a hissing snarl.

To Marc's horror, Joe pushes aside the twins and runs head on at him. He smiles unwillingly, more of a bearing of fangs than anything, and feels his bloody claws lift up for the next kill.

//_No, no! You sick bastard, don't hurt my brother!_// This is all Marc can get out before the Instinct pulls him back to the nothing place. He is a feraligator now, upper frame covered in the blood of the human he'd just slain. The senses are gone in an instant, and by the second Marc can feel his memories dissolving. He clamps both massive, scarlet palms against the side of his head, as if by doing so would keep the flow from escaping his mind.

//_Don't forget them, don't forget them. Jill, Jade, Joe. Jill, Jade, Joe. You're Marc. You have a name. Uh... J-Jay... Joe. No, god damn you, don't forget! Don't you dare!_// He thinks up tears of frustration, and they come. //_You were a human. You're name is... you're name..._//

A slow realization seizes Marc in his frantic attempt to perserve his memories. The thoughts streaming through the nothing place, he howls Joe's name in grief. He can't forget him now.

//_You're dead! I killed you! Joe, I didn't want to..._// Distracted by this mental moaning, Marc feels his little brother's name wither away. He screeches soundlessly because his preoccupied mind forgets to anticipate a sound. How low this human's fallen from the arrogant personality he began with.

Now he apologizes to a face that doesn't have a name. Now he apologizes to a little brother, whom he can remember nothing about. An instant later he stops, since saying sorry to a complete stranger and not knowing why seems silly. He lowers his claws and looks up at the so dearly cherished top. As a dribble of blood trickles within reach his viper of a tongue drags it in. He can't taste it because he's forgotten the flavor.

//_Marc, I think you know you've been punished._// The Instinct whispers in his ear. //_And I think you can remember that you did something very bad._//

//_Yes._//

//_Sooner or later I won't need you anymore. When that time comes I'm going to make you disappear._//

//_Okay._//

//_And the next time you attempt to regain control... I'll destroy you regardless of what happens._//

//_Okay..._//

//_You don't sound very enthusiastic._// It takes on a threatening note, and soon the chains return to Marc's ankles and shoulder blades. The pokémon hangs his head in submission.

//_I'm not. I want to live again._//

//_That's never going to happen, Marc. You might be able to take over occasionally, but it's impossible to get rid of me forever. I can do anything to you,_// The shackles break Marc's wrists again, and his scales burn where the hot metal grinds against them. He falls to his knees. //_just by thinking it._//

Marc closes his eyes and hugs himself pathetically. The throbbing hands hang loose without movement. He grins in pain, and bends his head inward so that his chin presses into the neighboring chest plates.

The Instinct watches this, its face emotionless. At least Marc held expression in his human face when he was amused, but this creature twists it in such a way so that not even a twinkle of glee escapes.

//_I don't feel any sympathy for you, Marc. I'm glad your brother is dead._//

The words scarcely leave its borrowed mouth before a soul collides into it and sends the entity sprawling on its back. The soul is definately a stranger to this place, the amount of life essence orbiting its frame bright enough to blind the Instinct. It holds similar traits to Marc, with about triple its captive's strength. The Instinct lifts itself up on its elbows, only to be pinned back down by the invading soul.

Marc notices the pain's absence and squints at this new arrival. It actually has a shape (it must be a very powerful soul to be able to mold one together and still hold strength enough to immobilize the Instinct), an indecisive form that switches often. One moment the soul is double in size compared to the Instinct, a noble dragon of some sort, and seconds after he shrinks and becomes the unsteady form of a human boy. Marc watches the fight, but is fueled into indifference by his wariness of pain.

The Instinct scowls and forces his hand through the soul, though this doesn't seem to affect him. It searches for an Instinct, hoping to awaken it and cripple this annoyance.

//_Look all you want. You'll never find it._// The dragon/boy soul growls. Then, an act so sudden and quick that Marc doesn't comprehend it for seconds more, he pulls his head closer, bares his fangs, and crushes the Marc look alike's head. Instead of brains and blood and twitching legs, the Instinct dissolves, gushing forth a torrent of life essance. The powdery substance hovers around the soul, rejects him, and engulfs itself into Marc instead. Now Marc is enlightened, and knows that the soul standing before him is Joe. All the memories flock back, including the less happier additions in the recent past.

//_Joe, are you dead?_// He asks, standing up. His legs are human legs, covered in decent quality jeans.

Joe smiles and walks in front of Marc. They embrace, and its now that Joe lets himself cry. Marc wants to cry as well, but hasn't in so long that he doesn't recall how.

//_N-no, I'm not. At least if I can get back to our world in time.The portal's ready and everything._// He answers, the tears passing straight through Marc's shoulder.

//_Did you kill it?_//

Joe shakes his head, face still buried in Marc's clothes. //_I don't think you can get rid of them. I'm sorry. Maybe if you-_//

//_That human boy I killed. Were you friends with him? All of you?_// Marc interrupts harshly, wanting to steer away from the subject.

Joe hesitates in the reply. //_...yeah._//

Marc tightens his grip in wordless apology.

//_I've done a lot of bad stuff since I was captured, haven't I?_//

Again, a pause. //_...yeah._//

Marc smiled sadly, and pushed Joe backwards so that his little brother looked him in the eye.

//_This'll sound weird, but... If God could choose one of us to live, would he pick me or that human?_// Joe opens his mouth to speak, but Marc cuts him off before he can even finish his inhale. //_Actually think. That Instinct is gonna come back eventually and I'll forget all about you when it does. I'll rot here until my body shuts down. I think that's worse than the dying part._//

//_It doesn't matter, right? Meeko's dead and you're alive, and we're all gonna go home and that Instinct is gonna get left behind here._//

//_But you don't know that. What if it comes back when I'm a human, Joe? I could turn into a serial killer._//

//_It doesn't matter! You're coming back with us, okay?_// He cries, pushing forward for another embrace. Marc roughly steadies him in place.

//_Joe... I want you three to be the last ones I think about right before I die. I don't want to die not knowing how having friends feels like._// Marc surveys the life essance pulsing through his arms. //_This stuff is portable, right? I need you to take it from me. Every little drop._//

//_What? But then I'll kill you!_// Joe trails off, thinking of what Marc has just said. Even so, Joe refuses, claiming that he doesn't know how.

Marc grabs Joe's hand, puts it on his shoulder, and then uses his fingers as a queer type of soul scooper. A handsome amount absorbs into Joe's arm, and Marc grins hollowly to disguise the grimace of pain and weakness he feels.

//_That's how._//

//_But...but... My god Marc, I can't kill you! You're my brother!_//

//_Do it as a favor then. I don't want to live like this anymore!_// Now Marc is angry in his desperation, and his hand digs deep into Joe's shoulder. //_I can't feel what I want to. I sit here day after day wondering what it's like to live. That thing tortures me by giving me some of this mist so I can feel for a few seconds and then lose it all after. It's not worth living._//

//_Then kill yourself! Commit suicide, or something, but don't make me kill you!_//

Marc laughs falsely and makes as if to twist his head sideways in order to break his neck. //_I can't die like that, Joe. I've tried so many times, but it only hurts. A lot._//

//_Marc, I can't... I'm sorry, but this is sick! I came here to rescue you, not kill you!_// He begins to choke up again and lags his head sideways because Marc refuses him a shoulder to support itself on.

//_Yeah, I get it. You're just a little kid, eleven years old. But I need you to stop being so selfish and do this for me._// He uses Joe's hand to scoop out another handful of life essance, and knows his words have an effect because they offer no resistance. //_I can keep doing this for you until I can't lift up my arms anymore. You want me to do that instead?_//

Joe doesn't answer, can't answer to the question of how he should go about killing bloodkin. He closes his eyes, and lets Marc continue on his own. The absorbtion itself causes no sensation, but he knows how much is gained by the burst of energy he feels and the steady weakness of Marc's grip on his wrist. When Marc asks him to sit down to make it easier for him, Joe obeys and sheds eerie, silent soul tears. He doesn't open his eyes; like Marc's desire for Joe to be the last in his thoughts, Joe wants his last image of Marc to be one that's alive. Soon Marc is struggling to steady his breathes, as well as his trembling arms. He drops Joe's arm, eyes half closed in their weakness. The nothing encasing them spins, further enhancing his nausea.

Marc can feel himself tottering, and leans forward so that his limp form is held up by Joe's.

//_Your turn._// He breathes into his ear, more of a mind whisper than anything. //_I don't think I can talk after this fistful so... I'll say it now. I love you. I'm sorry I was such a jerky brother._//

//_I...I forgive you._// Joe squeaks, hugging Marc close. He can sense his brother's final smile.

//_So...cheesy..._// He replies weakly. Sobbing, Joe plucks the last of the life essance from Marc's soul and feels the shape he hugs becoming intangible. Seconds afterward Joe is hugging only himself and the sacrificed energy of his now dead sibling.

oo00oo

It was a strange sight to see. Waterburn had succeeded in ripping one wing off and was just about to cleaver off the second when both combatants froze in place. They lowered each other's arms and stared into the scenery: in Joe's case it was a stone wall, and in Waterburn's it was us. A little freaky looking, actually. There was no life present in either of their faces, not even a blink. It looked like they were sleeping with their eyes open.

In this temporary cease of fighting Jill and I rushed over to Meeko's body, where Damion had already crawled over to and lay grieving beside him. I was careful to avoid stepping on his blood, which limited me greatly because the stuff formed a sick moat around his body. Out of desperation I ignored my disgust and grabbed his wrist to feel a pulse. If there had been one I couldn't feel it through my fur.

"Is he-?"

"Yeah." I gently put his hand back down, and made the mistake of looking at his face. His eyes were screwed shut, pale face twisted in a frozen snarl of agony. His teeth had gripped into the glowing plants, out of pain no doubt. Blood was drying on his lips, and a salty pathway down his cheeks told me that he'd been crying as he died. That made it worse somehow. In all the books I'd read and movies I'd watched, no one had actually shed a tear when they were killed like this.

Damion raised his snout to give each of us a miserable look, and slowly lowered it again to rest on the bloody ground. //_This is my fault._//

Shimmertail crept toward us softly. She saw our sorrow and was sorry for it, but didn't grieve as we did. She hadn't known any of us long enough to cry for the human.

"I sympathize for your loss." The espeon said.

"Bullshit." Her formal words meant nothing to me. Jill scolded me lightly for my rudeness.

"Your hostile reply is only brought forth by the sadness. I do not hold it against you."

"How thoughtful. Now could you go away?" I hissed, tears worming their way to the surface.

That arguement could have continued until I died of old age if the situation allowed it. Confrontation like this helped distract me from the actual problem, and in a strange way I enjoyed every icy retort I could come up with. Her calmness completely ruined the feeling.

Shimmertail was just about to obey (again, sapping the fun out of a good arguement) when the bodies of Joe and Waterburn collapsed to the ground, still in an embrace. One of them roared in agony, but it sounded more out of emotional pain than physical. With the exception of Cel (he needed to keep his hold on our universe, and every drop of concentration helped) we hesitantly approached the bodies. Joe lifted his head up, arms coiled around Waterburn's neck, and gave another cry. He lifted his arms up and clamped them on each side of his face, as if trying to blot out the sound of his own grief. I looked down at Waterburn, whose eyes stared vacently at nothing. Having just inspected the face of the dead, I knew somehow that Waterburn had been killed while in his stupor. And that Joe played a key role in it.

"Joe..." Jill began to say something, realized she had nothing to say, and fell silent again. What words of comfort could sugar coat the death of a loved one?

"I killed him, I killed Marc!" He wailed, voice hardly destinguishable through the layer of growls his new throat conjured.

"No, you killed Waterburn. See? Look at his eyes, they're gray." Jill said, looking over the eyes herself. Both she and I discovered at the same moment that Waterburn's eyes were somehow replaced with a dark olive... Marc's color. She leaned her head backwards in confusion. "That isn't..."

Joe pulled himself together enough to keep his replies below the exclamation level. "I killed him..." It was all he said, repeatedly, among other moans in a language of hisses and growls. His injuries inflicted by Waterburn he paid no attention to, despite how much blood they shed. Jill pushed Joe away from the dead body with her vines, being the only one large enough to do so. As we neared the portal, passing by Meeko's body (so many deaths today...), Joe gave a start and broke sharply out of Jill's grasp. He growled out what sounded like "eye lessons" and ambled over to the human corpse.

"Joe, you know he's dead. You're just rubbing salt." I said weakly, walking over in spite of myself. Jill followed, either hesitant to leave my side or wishing she could have one last look at him before we were off.

Joe bent down, mindless of the blood he stepped on. He gripped both Meeko's stiff shoulders and moved the body so that his grimacing face stared up at the ceiling. The wounds themselves were hidden by his black shirt, but Joe's mighty tail flame showed us how saturated in blood it was. This upset us considerably, forcing Damion into protest.

"What are you doing?" The totodile rose to his feet, lips peeled back at the larger creature. "Let go of him!"

"Shut up." He hissed, easily scooping the boy up in his arms. I joined in Damion's fretful chorus.

"Joe, put him down! That's sick!"

The corpse holder paid us no mind, smearing away what remained of Meeko's bangs from his face. Some of the hairs broke free, reattaching themselves to Joe's bloody hands. He placed his palm on Meeko's forehead like a worried parent checking the advance of his fever. When nothing happened, Joe moved his hand to the wounds, as well as various other parts of the body, each giving no response to his touch. He grew increasingly distressed, and desperately called Shadowveil and Shimmertail over.

"What is it? Why do you prod the dead?" Shadowveil asked.

"I can bring him back!" He replied, eyes hungry. "But I don't know how to do it."

"That is impossible, Josef..." Shimmertail said quietly. "Even with high class doctors and equipment, the impalement wounds are too great to revive him."

"No, not like that! Marc gave me his life so I could give it to him!"

I looked up at him sympathetically, quite a feat now that he stood so tall. Had he finally gone insane? A frown on my face, I looked over to the eons to exchange similar glances of pity. Their expressions hinted seriousness.

"What did his life look like? How much did he have to give?" Shimmertail asked, padding over so that she faced the corpse.

"It was a colorless mist. A lot of it; I'd guess enough to replace all my blood if it came to that."

"The boy holds excess life essance, Shimmertail." Shadowveil pointed out. "If he has not used it all by now, it may be enough to get Meeko's heart beating again. You could heal his wounds afterwards, using their love and your skill."

"You can bring him back?" Damion asked. "How ca-"

"Just tell me how to give it to him! I don't wanna waste this stuff!" Joe cried.

"I will help you." Shimmertail explained calmly. "You must know what form you took while in the darkness, correct?"

"Yeah, I think I was my soul."

She blinked as a way of nodding. "Unless Shadowveil assisted you, your soul was able to travel successfully into the correct darkness (the one holding your brother) by a bridge of love both he and you constructed. Although I am puzzled as to how Marc was able to build his half of the connection."

"What's your point?"

"You are unable to repeat this process because Meeko is dead. I will have to weave the path for you, but from there on you must seek out the glimmer of his soul by yourself, if it still remains. This task should be easy, considering he is newly dead. If you truely took the life essance from Marc, then you should know how to give to and take from another.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

She locked eyes with Joe, her gaze tender, and leapt up on her hind legs. Her front paws balanced on Meeko's body.

"Do not drop him when I begin, or else the connection will break."

"I'll try not to."

The ruby on her forehead flickered, and she slowly lowered her eyes to the dead human's heart. No sooner had she finished this simple gesture when that vacent expression returned to Joe's face.

"...so, you're sure this'll work?" I asked anxiously, after several minutes of silence.

"Many things could go wrong." Shadowveil began, earning himself a dark look from his adoptive daughter. "There is a possibility Joe could give too much of his own life essance to Meeko and, when he returns, die of the wounds Waterburn inflicted because none of us have the strength to move him to the portal. Meeko's soul could have already dissipated. And another... Well, think of it this way, human: How would you feel about remembering what happens after death? If that memory remains in Meeko's head he may go insane."

"The memory of death hardly ever conceives, Shadowveil. And if it does, the most that person would do might be to switch religions." She narrowed her eyes and gave us an apologetic glance. "In reality, the odds of Joe succeeding are quite high."

Satisfied, I allowed my patience to resurface for another minute or so. In that time I observed what Cel had been doing during all this, but the legendary offered no sign of even being conscious anymore. His head hung over the step, and the portal in front of him rippled precariously.

"He's returning." Shimmertail stated flatly, bending over Meeko's mouth and ready to embrace his exhale of breath.

Joe regained his senses as suddenly as before, and gradually buckled to his knees. He made sure to keep a steady grip on Meeko as he did this, not wanting his own weakness to be the second death of his friend. The pain he became aware of now, and he struggled not to lose himself in a faint.

As predicted, Meeko gasped and hacked out blood, releasing very little (but enough) breath for Shimmertail to work her magic. She rambled off the internal turmoil in her medical language, raising her voice to blot out a thin moan emitted from Meeko. The green healing orbs simply poured out of Joe, belittling our own portion of the recovery to unimportant motes. They merged into Meeko's chest, mending organs and bones and other important body parts. He parted his eye lids carelessly, staring at the scene with a dim unawareness.

//_I...I can breathe._// He thought with a sigh, eyelids unwillingly sliding back in place. A fickle of alarm sparked in his subconscious. //_I'm alive._//

As to how this had happened he could only guess, for all five senses sputtered unresponsively in his head. Sight was reduced to shadows breaking away from other shadows (in that brief moment of opened eyes), and hearing low murmers of gibberish. Both taste and scent had melded into this awful copper aroma. He tried to raise his arms, make any type of movement, to warn whatever doctor operating on him that he was waking up from the anesthesia. What he assumed to be the drug held him in place.

While the healing performed its miracle, Joe's eyelids fluttered shut. He remained awake only to keep his flow of the healing going, clawing away at the darkness closing in on his head. When he didn't trust himself to keep them closed, Joe pryed open his eyes and blinked at the boy in his arms.

The healing was done. Extra motes fluttered over Meeko's body aimlessly, and then shriveled out of sight, their energy spent. He smiled at the steady rise of Meeko's chest. His body warmth, although quite cool in comparison to Joe's, pulsed into his arms.

//_I didn't waste it, Marc._// He thought, sliding his arms free. Supported by Jill's vines, Joe wobbled to his feet and staggered over to the portal. From the look of things neither had much time left before they disappeared. Or died. Which was kind of bad. He would have waited for a proper farewell if possible, that much I knew.

Shimmertail sampled Meeko's breath, and gave us a reassuring smile. "He is healthy. Give his blood time to flow and he will be as he was before the impalement."

Damion, too bewildered by the sight of his human's breathing, didn't bother to give thanks. He patted Meeko's elbow, not truly convinced until he himself felt the warm-blooded heat breathing humans gave off. It warmed his scales, as always.

//_I...I don't get it._// His simple mind reeled. //_He was cold and stiff before. Cold and stiff humans never move again because they're dead, so... why is Meeko moving?_//

It defied the logic he'd molded together, and shook him into the deepest uncertainty. He rested his snout on Meeko's arm like a faithful dog might and hoped happiness would serve as a worthy distraction against confusion.

I knelt over Meeko as well, whispering a timid thanks to Shimmertail. He blinked his eyes open again and focused them on mine. They were the eyes that had gazed into the grim reaper's face as the sickle cleavered his life away. Hopefully that memory would be forgotten.

"J...Ja..." Meeko wrestled with his dead tongue. I smiled and shook my head at him, upsetting the tears that gathered in my eyes.

"I get the last word, you got it?" It was sad to know that such last words would be in a completely different language. Oddly enough, he nodded in reply. Did he understand..?

"We're leaving now... going back home." He listened, dark eyes brimming with understanding. It urged me to go on, hinting that my words had meaning to him. "But before we do, I speak for all of us when I say you're the best thing that ever happened to us here. You got us out of the lab, and acted as a bodyguard the rest of the way here. A lot of stuff happened to you, but you stuck around anyway. Without a single thank you in return, too."

His expression softened into a weak grin and an even weaker shrug of forgiveness.

I scowled, still exchanging a smile. "Thanks. Sorry we were such asses. You understand, right?"

He inhaled deeply and forced out a raspy, "Yeah. But it's okay." What he said held an accent to which there was no ethnic category, almost destroying the meaning.

Damion looked at the human strangely. "I understood that. Perfectly. He's talking in my dialect."

So much convenience in one setting! Glad that we could understand each other for the first time, I leaned closer.

"I'll see you later, maybe. All you have to do is piss off our God and you're all set." I pecked his cheek with a kiss, grateful that I hadn't instinctively licked it. "Don't waste the life he gave you."

I turned away from the human and scampered towards the portal. Cel looked up at us, face pained. "If you don't leave now, you don't leave at all."

There was no better a cue. We ushered Joe through first, who hardly had the strength enough to hold his head up. The portal trembled, as if infected by Joe's weakness, and for a moment I thought it would flicker out of existance, and Joe with it. I motioned for Shimmertail to go before us, but she politely declined.

"It would be uncanny of me to reappear in a hospital room. Cel will create another portal for me afterwards."

Nodding, Jill and I turned to the portal's purple glass face. I clutched her vine in my paw, hoping that by the end of this it would forever be hand in hand instead. She looked at me, grinning, and to humor the dramatic mood I looked back up at her and did the same. We closed our eyes and stepped forward.

I only got out "BON VOYA-!" before the portal stripped me of sight, sound, and the wretched body I'd hatched as.

oo00oo

"I'm not trying to sugar coat this in any way. Both of you should seriously consider it." The doctor looked eerily similar to a New Bark Town lab employee. Of course, this wasn't possible, because in this universe they only existed in fantasy.

"Consider letting our kids die? What about the Ambien? Did you give them the Ambien yet?" The frantic brunette cried, standing as tall as her five feet would allow her.

He sighed deeply, his calmness infuriating the hot tempered woman even further. "We administered it to them two days ago, Susan. Please try to understand. They are costing us supplies and money-"

At the dreaded word she shrieked aloud, making quite a scene by pulling at her hair and stamping a foot on the ground all at once. "Money! We've given you enough money. There shouldn't even be a price for this kind of thing!"

"But there is." The doctor said, voice firm. "It's been nearly three years since they fell into comas, and even with Ambien they show no signs of recovery. Think of all the lives we could save with the money they use up."

Backed into a corner, Susan felt tears arose in spite of her tough demeanor. She looked to the silent man sitting in a chair beside her, pleading for help, but he had no objection to the idea. Both of their lives had been disrupted by this, haulted them entirely. His soon-to-be wife was threatening to call off the wedding he'd promised her about a month before Marc and Joe slipped under. She and her children had suffered miserably under the strict budget enforced over the family.

"I-I'll get more money then! That family from New York, I can ask for more."

"You've drained them of their daughter's savings for long enough. I doubt her parents will allow her to continue when a pre-paid college tuition's at stake."

Susan bared her teeth up at the man, a face he'd seen a few times too many for its malice to affect him anymore. She clenched her fists, maternal instincts warning her that if this man's decision threatened the lives of her children, she would have to kill him.

"I won't let it happen again! I'm not going to lose them, too! Sit down, Richard!" She shouted shrilly as the boys' father began to rise from his seat. She pounded her fists against the doctor's chest in her frustration. He backed out of her range, more so to prevent her from doing something she regretted than for his safety. Her eyes narrowed evilly, shoulders rising in her crazed pants. "As long as I'm still alive, so are they."

A nurse shuffled into the room, most likely saving that doctor's life. All three of the room's occupants waited patiently as her eyes rolled about in amazement while her mouth sat still as stone.

"The children. They've awakened!" She finally sputtered out, and fleeted back to the scene of the miracle. Mother, father, and doctor followed her.

They had been moved into seperate rooms as time had worn on, the twins in one, the brothers in the other next to them. Susan fluttered towards her children, howling incoherently out of joy. There wasn't as much excitement going on in there (aside from the awakening) compared to Marc and Joe's. The concerned shouts coming from the boys' room discouraged Richard from entering. An idle nurse from inside looked over her shoulder, saw the man hovering outside the door, and made herself useful by shooing him far away from the room than was neccessary.

"I'm sorry sir, there are some complications regarding your son." Her effort to conceal the dilema only hightened his worry.

"What? Which son?" He tried pushing through, nearly as frantic as Susan had been moments ago. "Let me see them!"

Something in the nurse's face hinted that she enjoyed the attention she was drawing to herself. "Sir, if you continue this behavior, we'll be forced to remove you from the scene."

Easily surpassing her in height, the nurse's restless body failed to cover up the sight unfolding behind her. A handful of employees carted out one of the bodies, running as a single flock down the nearest hallway. Richard couldn't miss the light blonde coloration of Marc's hair. He paled visibly.

"Marc!! Let me go, that's my son!" As if anticipating his outburst, a couple of male doctos had barred his way. "He's only seventeen, please, let me see him!"

"Sir-!"

"Mr. Brunco, we assure you-!"

"Dad!"

Even among the sea of sounds Richard could pick out his younger child's voice. Being thirteen now, it held the puberty ridden squeal of all boys his age. Acting as a sort of tranquilizer against his current disaster, the strength leeched out of his resistance. He turned his head into Joe's room, where nervous doctors and nurses crowded around his bed, as if fearing he would slip back into a coma if they left him unguarded. His head scanned in between torsos, searching for his father.

"Josef?" Richard walked briskly into the room, mercilessly pushing aside any medical worker who happened to be in his way. The excited chatter in the room next to them muffled into silence.

Joe leaned back against the bed, chest heaving from the effort of that simple movement he made. His body hadn't moved in years; it was understandable.

Richard leaned over Joe's bedside, light eyes widening in both grief and sweet relief. He cupped his large hand over his smallest child's, expecting the fingers to close up around them. They twitched, made an inch of movement, and went slack again. Dismayed by the sight of his weakened son, tears began to form. Joe also shed tears, for reasons unknown to his father.

"Dad... Where are Jade and Jill?"

"They woke up seconds after you, Josef." A doctor answered for him, vexing Joe's need to hear his father's voice again.

"How...long was I asleep for?"

"Two and a half years." Richard answered quickly. He'd counted each day, each hour his sons had sat withering away in their hospital beds. He would allow a doctor to answer that before him when hell froze over. Joe craned his head up to the ceiling, closing his eyes. One of the doctors who had pushed Marc out of the room shuffled in.

At once a clamor rose up among the doctors, each employee believing that if they asked the loudest they would be the first to hear the fate of Marc Brunco. Stunned, he raised his arms up and demanded for silence.

"Quiet, all of you!" The noises trickled to a hushed whisper. "...I think the boy has a right to know."

Joe turned to the doctor, eyes half opened and only mildly interested. His cheeks were damp with premature grief, and more flowed from the corner of his eyes.

The doctor walked up to Joe's bedside and lowered himself so he and the boy were eye level. He licked his lips nervously.

"Joe... We're all glad you've finally woken up..." He scowled and frowned in sympathy. "...but I don't know how I should go about with this next part."

Still crying silently, Joe forced a grim smile.

"Then don't. I already know." He hiccupped, grimaced in expected pain, and relaxed again. "Marc didn't make it."


	28. The Last Chapter

Author's Note: I was really, really struggling with Marc's death scene, trying every route possible to keep it from being too dramatic and cheesy. Failing this, I had no choice but to make Marc's last line comic relief. Which makes it sadder somehow. shrug Meeko's rebirth was also a struggle, because /_any_/ sort of coming back to life is so freakishly cheap (hehe, sorry Lacey, the truth comes out) that I felt like I was violating a religion. I just couldn't live with a sad ending! Okay, it was still pretty sad, but there was no way I would defy the laws I'd created in the story just to bring back a character. I was disappointed by the awakening scene in the last chapter, probably the ending. It didn't turn out like I wanted it. Kinda funny how the story controls the author after a while instead of the other way around, huh? This last chapter is a perfect example of falling action. Nothing exceptional happens here, except maybe the completion of the story itself. It's just my little plot hole filler space. All I have to say to you guys is what I say every chapter... Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Eight: The Last Chapter**

When I slipped into a coma twenty three "days" ago I had just past the halfway mark of thirteen years. The next time I raised my human eyelids I was told that less than a month ago they mournfully celebrated my sixteenth birthday. Everything was mismatched now. I had the wit, maturity, and education of a preteen. My physical strength matched that of a three year olds, since I hadn't moved in so long. What's worse, my skill level in writing had finally been matched with my actual age (at thirteen I could write like a teenager). My soul was the tired, restful mind of an elder's.

It had taken several tries ((you have no idea)) to figure out how much faster time ran its course compared to the near slow motion of the pokémon universe. Apparently, as we sat idly watching fights and trekking through forests, every two and a third minutes that went by there cost an hour and a half over here. The final answer was so overwhelming that even now I wonder if it was correct.

All three of us went through countless physical therapy sessions. It's been almost eight months since we first started, and only now am I finding it easier to run short distances. I've gotten used to how deaf and useless human ears are.

Speaking of therapy, the ones with the long comfortable couch and the nosy doctors were, and still are, a great gamble. It's like they know how I spent my coma, but wanted the satisfaction of their patients telling it to them instead. There is no way in hell I'll tell them about the body change and the disembodied voice. Anti-depressants were wretched enough to take. Besides, I was sure they'd just connect everything that happened to books and movies I'd read before going under. It's quite possible. I have countless meaningless connections to the Voice in my head, the search for a certain tower, among other details therapists get paid handsomely to point out.

Ever since I returned home the Voice has been quiet. I know that each time I lose my temper or feel a mysterious rush of determination in dire situations its still there, influencing me, but I'm ready to embrace Instinct as long as it keeps its mouth shut. Thank god, right?

Well, maybe not God. I find it hard to believe a divine being was responsible for the creation of all those multi-universes when my former religion only preached about one. I don't buy it anymore. Yes to evolution, Karmha, and reincarnation.

After we regained enough strength, Jill, Joe, and I were forced to endure tutors struggling to fill in the blank spots of middle school. None of that knowledge was extremely important enough to commit to memory, aside from well known tricks that would assist me in classes such as chemistry and math. I've even forgotten those. Until we can wheel ourselves around in a wheelchair over long distances, our parents refuse to allow us to go on to our appropriate schools.

We became instant celebrities, being vaguely mentioned in movies or some other published work as advances in the field of science and the use of a sleeping pill to cure comas. Our mailbox is constantly filled up with letters from other families. They look for comforting words from us, hoping their own relatives would awaken from a coma if so-and-so was done to them. It was all very flattering for the first week or so.

We missed several major events in our absence from the world. The war against terror in Iraq was still going strong, but as some good news a woman has finally been elected commander in chief. I'll let you take a guess as to who it is. It seems gas prices have risen to near impossible numbers despite the fact that everyone has more than enough oil left to burn. I never really noticed the gradual effects of global warming until I experienced my latest "winter" on the north eastern coast. Another issue was the worst school shooting in history leaving over fifty people dead. It had followed about half a year after the second deadliest at a college in Virginia, so the tragedy is still fairly recent. For some strange reason, natural born honey bees (thoses that aren't cloned) became existinct, struck by a mysterious syndrome scientists are still baffled by. I can't say I'm sorry for that.

The tattoos on our palms are hardly visible anymore, even more so on Jill because she'd deliberately carved scratch marks into her hand to obliterate the image. She believes it to be the only memory linking her to that month long nightmare. I know better. Those hateful tags followed us all the way to our own universe. Thankfully, they'd appeared beneath the sheets of our hospital beds, unattached. Jill threw hers in the nearest trash, as well as Joe, and I later fished them back out to keep in storage. As a sort of keep sake, maybe.

Cel's plan to bring Shimmertail into this world must have worked. Within the same day of our awakening our long lost sister reappeared on the face of this earth somewhere a few miles from Boston. We've reunited since then, obviously, and none of us found it particularly strange that she spoke in heavily formal phrases. She hasn't mentioned anything about becoming an espeon, but that coincidence is too uncanny for me to lurk other possibilties. Shimmertail is our big sister, and I won't hear anything otherwise.

As for the little mutant? He's come to accept the fate of his legendary brethren and can only hope the next generation won't inherite the Instinct's strength. He still keeps in touch via dreams, giving me updates about Meeko, Shadowveil, and Adrian (and I pass the message on to the others). Unfortunately, the outlaw must have survived whatever it was Waterburn did to him. After he was released from the hospital he proceeded to search out that Griffin guy and give him Meeko's backpack with the camera in it. He must have succeeded in this, because so far no one's attempted to kill Meeko. They trust society not to believe in a child's accusations of illegal testing. Shadowveil remains the guardian of Ilex forest, and has recently become the guardian of captured pokémon released into the wild there as well.

After Cel transported Meeko back to Ecruteak city, the first move Meeko made was his return trip home. This took little time thanks to an available short cut leading from the five mile route to Violet city. In New Bark Town he'd drawn hardly any attention to himself, trusting no one old enough to be possible lab employees. His mother was more than overjoyed to see her son, partially bald or not. When she asked about his travels he curtly changed the subject, and, sensing his discomfort, his mother pretended to go along with it. She replaced his clothes and threw both shirt and pants away. Of course, she would have to have been a moron not to notice the blood and claw marks in the shirt's chest area. Her worry had deepened, but he seemed fine now and she didn't bother to pursue the matter.

According to his current thoughts, Meeko plans to release or give away his pokémon and go back to school. He isn't sure how to break this to Damion, since his gift of tongues wore off about an hour after the healing. I didn't need a soothsayer to know that those put back into the wild would all die eventually. Each had been drilled with the arts of fighting, yet knew squat about anything else. Cel also mentioned that in the late future Meeko would help shut down the lab in his birth town, but then again, Cel explained to me that in a few years he and Adrian would be on civil terms with each other. I'm still waiting for some proof of these theories.

It turns out a close online friend of mine from New York literally bought Jill, Joe, and me half a year's worth of time in the hospital beds. She'd heard of my falling into a coma and the financial issues that would soon follow, and worked her tail off to publish a best seller (way, way easier said than done, even for a writer like her). It was more out of service than pleasure to become an author so early, to which I apologized for when we met face-to-face for the first time a week after I woke up. Our families hold strong binds now, despite the distance of miles between us. That's one bright side.

Today, nine months after waking up, it's that time of the month again.

...not //_that_// time of the month.

Every month, on the same day we'd awakened, Jill, Joe, Krissy (Shimmertail, I'm telling you!), and I meet up at chosen spots. It could be the movies, the mall, one of our houses, the library, whatever. It's our own type of silent therapy, the one link keeping us from obeying the doctors and telling ourselves it was all a dream. Today the spot is Marc's grave, chosen by yours truly.

Krissy car pools us, not trusting either of we learner's permit weilders to drive after we'd taken our pills. She slows down outside the graveyard, but not without reminding us how she thinks driving around inside is disrespectful to the dead. We nod mutely, having heard this belief of hers more than once.

This month I'm hoping we can actually discuss our experience. I'd been having troubled thoughts lately about the idea of them all humoring me so as to prevent the complete breakdown of my psyche and the likes. Also, I wanted to banish this thought from them if they shared the same frightening scenario.

Krissy helps us out of the car and runs to the trunk to retrieve and unfold our wheelchairs. During this ten minute long period we lean against the car breathlessly, eyes shut, determined not to buckle and fall in an ashamed heap on the ground. It kills me to remain an invalid after all of the physical therapy I've endured, and more than once I wonder why Krissy hasn't suffered the same weakness. My raw envy of her mobility is only matched by my fear of never regaining all the strength I'd lost. The therapy was just so hard...

Krissy takes turns pushing us as we manuver, Joe most of the time because he has to juggle with a small bundle of flowers in his lap. Walking in a graveyard used to disturb me, but not anymore. I know that for every corpse in the ground it means the death of that person's Instinct. It's a win-lose situation I most definately favor. We don't visit Marc's grave that often (it tires us out emotionally), and finding its location is an exhaustion in itself. In all it takes fifteen minutes of clueless wandering, even with Marc's coordinates, to find it.

We sit outside the lines of his grave, the upturned dirt overrun with grass but still harshly visible. As I've expected, they all stare into space, faces unreadable. I feel a flicker of dismay and irritation.

"Hey, I need to say something guys." They turn at the sound of my voice, but their eyes are in another place. With all the attention on me, circled around a grave, I feel like a cult leader marking the beginning of a sick ritual. "From ten months ago."

A twitch of discomfort squirms through each of us like an unseen wave. Jill swallows and answers in a voice I mentally applaude for its neutrality. "Ten months ago we weren't alive, Jade. Don't you mean nine months?"

"No." I reply coldly. "I mean ten months. When we-"

"We were in comas. Dreaming our lives away."

"Oh, sure! Dreaming!" My own desperation drives me into shrill remarks. I lurch upward in my chair and reach behind my pants pocket to fish out three tiny items. When they find purchase I pull out the evil tags we'd brought over with us and shove them as close to her face as my arm span allows. I won't let her do to me what the therapists had already done to her. "So that means we dreamed these up out of nothing, huh? That Marc just died for no reason, huh!?"

There is nothing worse a feeling to the subconcious than the moments when their known logic is proven wrong. Driven by this wretched feeling, Jill heaves herself out of the wheelchair and claws at my hand. The force of the harmless tap sends the tags scattering to the ground, above the grave. I howl at the sight, my own logic questioned, and brace myself to rise from my seat. It's Krissy's firm voice devours the anger.

"Enough! Silence, both of you!" She snarls, and Jill stumbles back into her chair. The sudden movement has her suffering a brief period of nausea.

"I wonder the same thoughts." Krissy states after she has the attention of each of us. This is no ordinary month of staring out into space while our confused thoughts slowly drown us. She wants to straighten some issues out, too. "I want to know whether or not I have- I mean//_I've_// just dreamed everything up."

"You didn't! We all remember it. We felt pain, we met people who acted so... //_real._//" I manage to keep from saying Meeko's name. It's become part of the unspoken rule. She nodded somberly.

"Yes, but ten months ago was a time of peril, mental turmoil, insanity..." Krissy looks to each one of us now, brown eyed and most definately sane. "I would rather it be a dream."

I flinch at the harsh words and summon up a quick retort. "Would you? Would it be better to know that Shadowveil never existed?"

That looks like it hits home; she sits there on the grass without anything else to say. I turn to Joe who, up until now, had been given the luxury of remaining quiet without my caring. He fidgits with the flowers in his hands.

"...I like to think that Marc died for a friend." He says, wringing the stalks of the unfortunate flowers. "That he's actually pretty good inside."

This concludes my lurking theory; Jill doesn't want to remember the Ten Months Ago because nothing in that time of madness made her want to. There's nothing keeping her faith anchored to the possibility of multiple universes. For Krissy it was Shadowveil, Joe's was the heroic death of Marc, and me... Well, I wouldn't have minded getting to know Meeko a little more. He reminded me of someone, somehow, though who exactly escapes me.

"Like it or not, it did happen, Jill." I state, closing my eyes to prep myself for the chore of retrieving the tags. After this month there will be no debates about Ten Months Ago with Jill. I don't mind letting her forget if it leads to her full recovery. She doesn't need to remember the pain.

I'm not so sure how to start off anymore, belittled by Jill's hostility, and slip into an extremely awkward silence. Joe saves me from my embarassment.

"What I want to know is why me and Marc evolved so quickly." He says, leaning forward to put down the flowers. "I'll deal with all of us evolving at the same time during that one battle, but that's something I can't let go of."

"Well, you're forgetting about what evolving actually is. The show dumbed it down to avoid religious issues, I think." I start, forgetting about my journey to grab the tags. "We evolved to adapt to the situation and avoid dying... and let's face it; that was as close to dying as we'll ever get to the real thing. I guess pokémon can just...speed up the process by a few million years."

"Mmm." He nods thoughtfully, digesting this. Joe appears satisfied enough, so I pick up where I'd left off.

"I just need to know that this really happened, everyone." I say, eyeing Jill. She glares at the papery hands folded on her lap. "After this, you can do what you want with your memories of it. Call it a dream, pretend it never happened, whatever."

"It's hard to call it a dream when you felt the pain so vividly." Jill comments, eyes sad, smile bitter. That's one issue I can't quench, so I continue as if I'd never heard it.

"Krissy, grab the tags for me, please. Thanks." Retrieving them from her, I toss one each to Jill and Joe. I feel qualms of regret for not having anything for my older sister, and hope she could use something else as a symbol for her Ten Months Ago.

"See these? They're your little reminders of what happened." I absentmindedly play with the durable plastic in my right hand. "You have to keep them until you think you're ready to let go of... that time."

"We've already let go, Jade. It's been almost a year, now..." Joe trails, examinating his tag.

"No, I mean really let go. Stop crying yourself to sleep over Marc. Don't feel guilty to smile. Try to get your strength back in physical therapy."

The four of us wince; physical therapy is a horrible invention to mankind.

"So." I hold my tag up as an example. "When you think you're ready to go on with your life... throw it away. Destroy it. Make sure you won't go back and find it again later on."

"So you just want me to forget about everything?" Joe growls, clutching his tag close. "Forget about Marc and Meeko?"

"I never said that." I retort. He shuts up satisfyingly fast. "Forgetting someone and going on with your life are different."

Krissy nods in agreement, no doubt already on this pathway given her wiser age of twenty-one. She probably won't need a tag to throw away. I sigh- it's a clincher sigh.

"That's all I have to say this month." I scan each of them, without much thought. They have nothing to add on, and the need to leave itches in our shoes. We hold a moment of silce for Marc, and then Krissy raises to her feet.

"Shall we atte- are we going to attend another gathering next month?" She asks, sensing a larger conclusion than this month's meeting.

"Nope."

"Okay." She and Jill begin their walk-and-wheel back to the car. Joe turns his chair and wheels after them, glancing down to make sure his tag still sat tucked in his front pocket. He still needs some thought about this, I assume. The teenager swerves his body around and gives me a puzzled glance.

"Are you coming, or what?"

I grin awkwardly. There's never a time they aren't. "I'll be there in a sec."

"You sure?"

"Mhmm. Now get out of here." He smiles at my typical rudeness and continues on down the paved walk. When he's out of sight, I take an enormous breath and pull myself out of the chair. My eyesight wavers and I fight a brief period of light headedness, then lower myself beside Marc's grave. I can smell the scent of the disturbed dirt even from here.

"You're awesome, Marc. You know that, right?" I pause to let him answer, as if he could whisper replies through the coffin. The image makes me squirm, but I remain on my knees over his grave stone. It's not polite to walk away in the middle of a conversation. "All my life I never thought you'd go the way you did. Dying for someone else, and stuff."

The wind picks up. I like to think it's Marc's hearty, unmodest agreement.

"You gave your life to Meeko just for Joe. And Meeko too, but mostly Joe." I brood on this thought. "But I wish you could have said goodbye or something. Not that I'm complaining." I wait for the wind to die down, and resume my semi-crazed monologue.

"Maybe he'll tell me why you told him to kill you someday. I won't ask, don't worry. It had to be for good reason if Joe let himself get talked into it." I look down at my tag, narrow my eyes in thought. I searched around for a decent sized rock, found one, and placed the tag against the thinner side of Marc's grave stone. Then, muttering a hasty "Sorry...", I swing my bludgeon against the tag; the otherworldly item shatters into a mini blizzard of white fragments. I gather the pieces up as much as possible, and bend down to inspect the damage I'd done to his grave stone. There's a slight scratch that will heal over as time wears down the rest of the stone.

"You'll take care of these for me, won't you?" I say softly, digging a shallow hole over Marc's grave. The tag's remains are sprinkled in, like a fine spice, and then hidden from sight by a simple swish of my hand. "Make sure an animal doesn't dig them up."

Brushing the dirt from my hands, I hoist my rebellious body upward, and then back down in the accursed wheelchair. The spot I'd put the tag in is still a little visible, but that should fade off soon. And so won't my brooding over Ten Months Ago. I'll get my strength back; I'll graduate highschool. I'll continue my life the way I would have wanted before Ten Months Ago. Maybe write a book.

//_Yeah, that's it. I'll write a book. About this, maybe. I won't publish it, of course._// I smile at the thought, and begin wheeling my way to the car. The weakness is hardly noticed. //_Probably just pass it off as a fanfiction online._//

"But what'll I call it? A great story's gotta have a great name." I say to no one, unconsciously stopping. My eyes find themselves staring at the tattoo on my palm. The pikachu stares right back. I'm suddenly slapped in the face by inspiration.

"Hehe, I like the sound of that. Has a nice ring." I lean back in my chair, pleased.

//The Changelings_, it is._//


End file.
